


we that are true lovers run into strange capers

by morallygreywaren



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Office, Co-workers, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Office Party, Secret Crush, Secret Relationship, basically something straight out of an early noughties British rom-com, only with nothing straight about it of course
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:48:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 81,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26543962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morallygreywaren/pseuds/morallygreywaren
Summary: The “Partners Weekend” at Merrick Industries was a bit of a joke, and in more ways than one. Who actually had time to spend a long couples weekend with people you worked with? But Joe had slaved away too many hours at his desk to blow off his chance at a promotion just like that. Particularly when all he had to actually do for it was spend a weekend in some manor house in the English countryside with his colleagues.Which led him to his current predicament: Who of his friends would agree to pose as his spouse for four days – and at one week’s notice?Double fake-dating AU: Joe asks Quynh to pretend to be his wife for an important work social at Merrick Industries. Andy brings her good friend Nicky under a similar guise. Only of course none of them is actually straight, and of course none of them is willing to admit that.A dumbasses-to-lovers story.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache the Scythian/Quynh | Noriko, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 782
Kudos: 933





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anarchisms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchisms/gifts).



> Due to personal reasons, I have lost my mind about [quynhtessential's post](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/quynhtessentials/629458780433924096) about a double fake-dating AU with these four immortal romantics and so now here we are.
> 
> I've got a writing playlist that you can listen to on [Spotify](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4w25Xqin0zcD8tdR8FueyH) if that's your thing? Title is from _As You Like It_ by my main bae Billy Shakespeare, for obvious reasons.

Of course, Booker was late. Joe has gone for a cheeky pub lunch with Booker every Friday for almost as long as he’d been working at Merrick Industries, and Booker hasn’t been on time for any of them. It’s one of his great character flaws, and as such, Joe can’t find it in him to get too mad at him.

What would be the point? Getting mad at people for things they can’t or won’t change about themselves would only create a bad mood for everyone, and Joe actually enjoyed Booker’s company the rest of the time. And workplace friends were _rare_ in a place like Merrick Industries. He could ignore his grumbling stomach for a moment longer, and finish the InDesign brief he’d been working on.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Nile bounding down the corridor with the day’s post. She handed out parcels and letters to people as she went before stopping at his desk.

“Hi, Nile!” Joe pushed his chair out from his desk to lean towards her. He didn’t usually get mail, but Nile knew she could leave things with him if she couldn’t find the person they were for. “Looking for Booker? He should be here any moment if you want to join us for lunch.”

Nile smiled, but shook her head. She had an admin role with Merrick Industries to support herself through her post-graduate degree, a feat that Joe found more and more impressive every day. Both in terms of her seemingly endless knowledge of art history, and her seemingly endless knowledge of how this insane company was organised. Joe had opened Excel exactly once in his life, cried, and decided never to repeat the experience.

“Not today, much as I’d love to,” Nile said, “too much on, too much to do. Are you two off to the King’s Head?”

Joe nodded. Booker had brought Nile with her to one of their pub lunches a couple of months ago, saying something along the lines of, “Look, Joe, someone with some more opinions on art, and history, so I don’t have to listen to your rants anymore.” But he’d meant it in kind, and she’d been an easy addition since, whenever she could make it.

“If you gotta dash, feel free to give me Booker’s mail, I’m not going to accidentally lose it this time.”

Nile scoffed. “Once it’s out of my hand, you guys can do what you want it with it. But nope, nothing for Booker, I’ve actually got something for you this time.”

She produced a thick envelope from her stack of mail that unmistakably had Joe’s name printed on it. The paper was embossed with the Merrick Industries logo and looked very official, apart from the fact that it was missing Joe’s address.

He flipped it around in his hands. “What’s this? Are they finally getting rid of me? Are you my firing squad?”

Nile rolled her eyes. They both knew he probably wasn’t going to get fired. “Open it, might be a raise, you never know.”

“If it is, I’m inviting you for lunch though. Fair warning, don’t care how much you have on.”

He slipped his finger under the top flap and tore the envelope open to produce a letter on similarly embossed paper.

_Dear Mr al-Kaysani,_

_Steven Merrick requests your presence at the annual_ Merrick Industries’ Partners Weekend _, where we will celebrate successes and share insights from across the company, while spending time with those nearest and dearest to us._

_This will be an ideal opportunity to form new connections with Partners from different offices and get to know each other on a more personal level._

_This year’s_ Partners Weekend _will take place at Hampton Manor on the last weekend of May._

_Please find a detailed itinerary enclosed._

_With warm wishes,_

_Steven Merrick_

Joe had heard of the Partners Weekend before. Every year, their twenty-something CEO would invite his senior staff – the Partners – to his county home in Surrey for a weekend of frivolity. The catch? It was expected that senior staff brought their partners as well. The ‘Partners’ Weekend was a bit of a joke that way. Joe never thought he’d be invited to one though.

“Well?” Nile asked. “Do I need to free up my lunch? Are you fired?”

Joe slowly shook his head. “Neither, I think. I’ve been invited to the Partners Weekend.”

Nile made a cooing sound and clapped her hands together. “Joe, that’s amazing! Oh my God, I’ve been organising that for weeks, you’re going to have so much fun!”

“Thanks, that’s-“ Joe was still staring at the letter, trying to make sense of it, and began scratching his head. “But why me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just. I’m not a Partner. I’m not even senior staff, really. I don’t know why they would invite me.”

Nile leaned over to take a look at the letter. “Don’t they invite a couple of people on the verge of being made Partner every year? I think I heard someone mention that. Maybe Booker. It’s like a test weekend, see if you fit in, that sort of thing.”

“Huh.” Joe let the letter sink, scratching his beard.

The whole thing seemed ludicrous, really. Who actually had time to spend a long couples weekend with people you worked with? But Joe had slaved away too many hours at his desk to blow off his chance at a promotion just like that. Especially when all he had to actually do for it was spend a weekend in some manor house in the English countryside with his colleagues.

There was only one problem. He wasn’t really… _attached_ to anyone per se. And he’d heard stories of people showing up to Partners Weekend by themselves, and it not ending particularly well for them. And if this was supposed to be a test to see if he was cut out for a Partner position, then… well.

Then the question was this: Who of his friends would agree to pose as his spouse for four days – and at one week’s notice?

* * *

“Okay, okay, I think I need you to back up there for a second.” Nicky wedged his phoned in between his shoulder and his ear as he opened the fridge to take out a beer. “You need me to come on holiday with you? Why?”

“It’s not a holiday,” Andy responded, “It’s a long weekend away. With my work. And I just- I need someone to come with me.”

“Okay.” Nicky fiddled with the bottle opener. He’d just come home when Andy called, and he’d been looking forward to a nice cold beer after the week he’d had. He wasn’t going to let whatever idea Andy was in the process of springing on him come between that. “But I have nothing to do with your work.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Then I think I don’t understand.” Nicky took a drink while he settled down on his couch and let the cool, cool alcohol begin to work his magic on his system. He mulled over the little information Andy had given him so far, and the favour she seemed to be asking, but it didn’t begin to make any more sense.

“Look, it’s just. It’s a nice weekend away, in a manor house in the English countryside. There’s a sauna, and a pool, and if I remember correctly, free booze and food. _Good_ food.”

Nicky nodded even though Andy wouldn’t be able to see him. “So you’ve been to this thing before?”

“Yes. Last year.”

“But this year you need me to come with you.”

“Yes.” Andy sounded more exasperated by the minute, but Nicky didn’t think she had any reason to.

“I’m not sure you’re making sense yet,” he told her.

Andy sighed, and he could tell he’d gotten her to the point where she was about to say something she hadn’t intended to when she started this conversation. “Last year I wasn’t working for Merrick yet, I just went with Lykon.”

Nicky let this statement ruminate in his very tired brain for a moment. Andy and Lykon had had an… explosive relationship the previous year, if that was the right word, and while it seemed to have ended in mainly reciprocal screaming matches, Andy had also gotten a job at Merrick Industries out of it. But if she’d been to the company’s away weekend with Lykon the year before-

“So you’re asking me to be your plus one?”

Andy let out a barely audible grunt, and Nicky could picture her scrunching her eyes shut. _Bingo_.

“I guess,” she said. “I guess that is what I’m asking.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay, why me?” Nicky asked. “All the obvious reasons for me to object aside, I hope you know that the likelihood of anything coming of this for us, romantically speaking, are zer-“

“Ugh, Nicky!” Andy interrupted him, and he couldn’t tell whether she was laughing or angry. It was possible she was both. This was the point where he would usually begin to enjoy this. “This is not some ploy on my part to romance you! You just happen to be the best suited out of all of my friends, and I _know_ for fact you don’t have anything on next weekend anyway.”

Nicky shook his head, and took a long drag from his bottle before he said anything again. “When you say ‘best suited’, you mean I’m the only one who’s single, don’t you?”

Andy mumbled something into the receiver, which Nicky took to mean her assent.

“Fine, I’ll let that slide,” he said, “but you’re wrong anyway, I can’t do next weekend. Mia is about to give birth next week, and I’ve got a flight booked on Sunday to meet my niece.”

“Oh, but that’s fine! That means you can still easily come for the first three days, and then I drop you off at the airport on Sunday evening, easy.”

It was Nicky’s turn to sigh. The thing was, he loved Andy. Had loved her ever since they were children, when she was like the older sister he never had, and had come to love her even more when he’d moved to the UK from Italy and her family had let him stay with them for a full six months before he found a place somewhere else. There was very, very little he wouldn’t do for this woman if only she asked. And she was asking him to pretend to be her boyfriend for a weekend. “Alright then.”

“Alright? You’ll do it.”

Nicky sighed again, for emphasis. “Yeah, yes. I’ll do it. But Andy?”

“Yes?”

“If I miss my flight then-“

“You won’t,” Andy interrupted him, “That’s an Andromache promise.”

He laughed, because she never used her full name unless she was dead serious, and then he hung up. Nicky eyed his beer for a long, long moment, and then decided to down it.

This was going to be quite the weekend.

* * *

Joe was quickly running out of people to ask. He’d texted most of his friends, whether they were single or not, but most of them seemed to find some sort of issue with pretending to be in a relationship with him – and on the rare occasion they didn’t, they weren’t free the following weekend.

“Hey man, I’d totally do it,” Booker said, nursing his second pint. “But I’m going with Sophie, so it would make the whole thing a bit awkward.”

Joe looked up from his phone. “You’re going to the Partners Weekend?”

Booker gave him a long look. “I’m the head of the operations team?”

“And that makes you a Partner?”

“Well, fuck you too,” Booker said, but he was laughing into his pint, and flicking mash at Joe’s face.

Joe dropped his phone next to his plate and his head into his hands. “Tell me again why I can’t just come by myself?”

“Because you don’t want that,” Booker said. “You ever seen Bridget Jones, that scene when she goes to a dinner party and she’s the only single person there?”

Joe looked up at him, face scrunched up. “No, I haven’t seen Bridget Jones, but it’s interesting that _you_ seem to-“

“Shut it, I’m a married man, and if that means watching rom-coms with Sophie from time to time it’s worth it. Anyway, Merrick’s set up for the weekend is pretty diabolical. You have dinner at couples’ tables, you play weird English couples’ games like tennis and croquet, and then all the men go hunting while all the women… to be honest, I don’t know what they do every year. I think last year they had a speaker from the Women’s Institute who gave a presentation about recycling. Never let it be said Merrick doesn’t care about all his employee equally!”

Booker rolled his eyes into his drink and Joe picked up his phone again. He hadn’t asked Booker explicitly, but what he’d just said confirmed his suspicions enough that he wasn’t going to push it. Every company in the City would put the phrase ‘We’re an equal opportunities employer’ on every single application form, but Joe knew when it came down to it, the weekend would be made more uncomfortable if he showed up with a man instead of alone.

Why did he want to go again? Ah, yes. The potential promotion.

“Listen, man, I gotta get back,” Booker said and got up, knocking his knuckles on their pub table. “Hope you find someone, but it’s only a weekend. If you really can’t, I’m sure Sophie has a friend who-“

“No, no, that’s fine,” Joe said as he waved Booker off, “but I appreciate it.”

He let his head fall back once Booker left the pub and stared at the ceiling as he contemplated what he was about to do. For someone who considered himself to be a man of principles, he sure was running out of them fast. Then he picked up his phone and pressed ‘call’.

“What’s up?”

“Hey, Quynh.” As Joe expected, she’d picked up after the second ring. “Do you have a moment?”

“For you, always; you know that. What happened? Finally decided to quit?”

“Ha, you might come to regret those words in a second,” Joe said, swallowing a guilty laugh. It was true. He had called Quynh because out of everyone he knew, well. She was the one most likely to do something batshit insane and ultimately, the most likely to support him with something like this.

“Oh Yusuf,” was all Quynh said when he was done making his case. Which, bad. She only ever used his given name when she knew he was about to make a dumb decision.

“Please, Quynh. I’ve got a good shot at finally being promoted, and if this is all it takes-“

“You mean, if both of us pretending to be straight _and_ married is all it takes? Why are you still working for these normcore monsters again?”

It was a rhetorical question. Quynh knew that if Joe was made Partner, he’d make enough money to comfortably go part-time and still have enough resources to begin building his own design firm.

“Also doesn’t anyone there know you’re gay? Won’t they think it strange that you suddenly turn up with this stunning, older wife?”

“As if any of them ever bothered to learn that much about me,” Joe snorted. He knew when she was fishing for compliments, but he was not in a position where he couldn’t indulge her.

“And come on, you know you don’t look a day over thirty-five.”

“Twenty-five.”

“Don’t push it.” Joe laughed, but his tone returned to pleading a moment later. “Please Quynh, you know I’ll do anything for you in return.”

“ _Anything_?” He could practically see the mirthful smile playing around her lips. “Now who’s saying things they might regret later?”

“Please, Quynh, don’t make me beg.”

“But you do it so well!” She was laughing now, but it sounded like a good sign. “Fine, I’ll do it in return for a favour.”

Joe clenched his fist to celebrate this small victory. He contemplated kissing it, but ultimately decided against it. “Of course, of course, anything, what do you want?”

“I don’t know yet,” Quynh said. “But I’ll be sure to remind you exactly how much of a good friend I am when the time comes.”

“Why does this feel like I’m selling my soul, Quynh?”

She laughed again. “Oh, you did that when you started working for that company from hell. Now, send me the itinerary for the weekend and I’ll text you my ground rules.”

“Okay,” he said, already reaching to take a picture of the invitation. Ground rules were good. A favour in return would be good, no matter what it was going to be. Why was Quynh so much better at this than he was? “Just sent it to you. And Quynh?”

“Yes?”

“ _Thank you_.”

“Oh, you are _welcome_ ,” she said, but she finished the call with a laugh that Joe had begun to fear. It was the laugh of a woman who had been presented with an opportunity to scheme, and if there was anything he knew about Quynh, it was that he didn’t want to be caught up in one of those. And he was pretty sure he just had.

Joe smoothed down the invitation lying on the table again, looking at the itinerary. But it was only four days. How bad it could it be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's gonna get gay, guys, but first it's gonna get dumb. Come shout at me about immortal idiots on [tumblr](www.morallygreywaren.tumblr.com/ask) or in the comments!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weekend at Hampton Manor begins with some inconveniences, room changes and a welcome speech, while some _thoughts_ are had.

Quynh liked to think that she trusted Joe implicitly. This was a lie, of course, but only in so far that she trusted no one implicitly. Not a particularly great way to live your life, Joe liked to tell her (and often!), but it hadn’t failed her yet.

Joe and her met at a talk for budding entrepreneurs almost ten years ago. She’d already been seated in a row somewhere close to the back, her coat and bag demonstratively draped over the two seats next to hers. But when she’d seen him stumble in, fresh-faced, and just a hint intimidated by the sea of white faces in front of him until he met her gaze, she’d only sighed and dropped her bag to the floor so he could sit next to her.

He’d helped her a lot since, when she first started building her company. The logo she still used was his design, and secretly, she’d already written a glowing review of his services for whenever he finally started his own as well. She knew how important this promotion was to him as a next step. Combined with her near-implicit trust, she probably would have agreed to play his wife for this weekend away no matter what.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t be opportunistic about it. Merrick Industries was, after all, one of the biggest pharma companies on the planet, and four days of unfettered access to its suite of execs for business advice and potential introductions to investors? That had to be any enterprising mind’s definition of a _coup de foudre_.

“Oh wow,” Quynh said as Joe took a final corner and Hampton Manor came into view. She had looked the place up online before coming here, but it was still a breath-taking view. Perfectly curated privet bushes lined the drive up to the estate, shielding acres and acres of a pleasure garden from view, and led to a historic fountain in the middle of a gravel-lined square.

“Yeah,” Joe agreed. “Sort of hard to imagine that this has over a hundred bedrooms, a dining hall, ball room, indoor and outdoor swimming pool and a gym and _isn’t_ a hotel.”

“Someone’s read the brochure,” she teased as Joe found a space on the adjacent parking lot.

“Someone’s _designed_ the brochure,” he quipped back, and they went to get their bags before making their way up the stairs to the entrance hall.

The air was warm for a day in late spring, and scented with wild flowers, which were arranged in large bouquets everywhere. A long row of welcome packs lined the tables next to room keys in the entrance hall, complete with luxury bathing products, samples of expensive make up, chocolate and various liqueurs, leatherbound journals and fountain pens.

Quynh smiled at the sight. She was going to have a _great_ weekend.

When they stepped into the entrance hall, the only other people in there were a young man with a clipboard behind what looked like a reception desk, and a woman who appeared to have a serious problem with him. She had short, dark-brown hair and was wearing an outfit that Quynh might have expected on a roadie touring with a rock band, but not on someone attending a corporate weekend away. Not that the skinny jeans and black tank top didn’t work for her.

Joe and Quynh kept their distance from where the woman was dealing with the receptionist, waiting their turn to be allocated a room, but Quynh couldn’t help but track the movement of the woman’s arm as she pushed her sunglasses into her hair.

That was… a well-defined shoulder. Quynh’s eyes lingered on that shoulder a moment longer, before her gaze travelled down the woman’s arm to where she was pressing a slender finger onto the receptionist’s desk. _Intriguing_.

“Oh no,” Joe said, and it took Quynh a moment to look back up at him. “Please don’t.”

“Please don’t what?” she asked, and decided she could have this conversation while looking at the woman after all. There were other parts of her anatomy that also turned out to be quite interesting from a visual perspective.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Joe continued, sotto voce.

Quynh was thinking about what it would be like to have her hips pinned to a flat surface by this woman's hands, while she got about as creative with her tongue as she currently got with her insults. She was not sure that was the kind of thought Joe had ever entertained, though.

“And you’re asking me to stop thinking?” Quynh let a smile curl around her lips.

“Yes, please, Quynh. I know I brought you here, but you can’t go around poaching the senior management VP, I’m never going to get promoted if you do.”

_Huh_. Now there was a thought. Not what she’d had in mind, but now that Joe mentioned it-

Joe groaned. “That’s not what you’d been thinking about at all, was it?”

Quynh broadened her smile and shook her head. “I would never have guessed that your senior management VP dresses like that, you know.”

“Yeah,” Joe said, “that’s Andy for you. She’s a bit of non-conformist when it comes to business practices. But everyone else is scared of her, so no one challenges that kind of thing.”

Quynh glanced back over at the woman. This was getting more and more interesting by the minute. The receptionist had now been replaced by a pretty young black woman, who took a gentle but more direct tone with her.

“I’m really surprised to see her here, to be honest,” Joe continued, “She doesn’t really… mingle with people. Or talk to anyone. Come to think of it, I’ve worked with her a number of times and I don’t even know her last name.”

“Yet you’re worried that four days are going to be enough for me to poach her?” Quynh waggled one eyebrow at him.

“I wish I hadn’t said anything,” Joe grumbled, but his face brightened when the young woman who’d been dealing with Andy came over to them. “Nile! How are you?”

They hugged briefly before Nile turned to Quynh and extended her hand.

“Hi, I’m Nile, I’ve organised most of this weekend,” she said, a warm smile on her face, “and you must be-“

“Let me introduce you to Quynh,” Joe said, and looped an arm around Quynh’s shoulders, “my wife.”

Quynh smiled and shook Nile’s hand, but she didn’t think she imagined the momentary falter of Nile’s smile at Joe’s words and the confusion in her eyes.

“Your-“ She took a moment to catch herself, checked her own clipboard against Joe’s name. “Your wife, of course. If you come with me to the desk I’ll sort out your room.”

So much for _as if any of them would ever bother to learn about the fact that I’m gay._

Joe squeezed Quynh’s shoulder and she darted a quick, judgemental look at his face. _It’s okay_ , Joe mouthed, as they walked up to the desk, _Nile knows_.

Quynh resisted rolling her eyes. It would be more annoying for Joe if their cover story got blown, but at least it wasn’t going to be her fault. She let her gaze roam around while Joe and Nile talked about their room. Beyond the reception, two flanks of broad stairs led up to where she imagined the guest rooms to be, while a few other steps led down into a wooden panelled hall that opened onto a terrace. 

She didn’t expect to see Andy again, but just before she turned back to Joe, the woman stalked up the steps from the lower hall. She was looking down at her boot-clad feet, but raised her eyes when she reached the top of the stairs.

While Quynh had been ogling her arms – and, to be honest, her ass – she hadn’t even thought to picture a face for this apparently scary, non-conformist VP who she definitely should not try to poach. But even if she had, it still wouldn’t have prepared for the onslaught of steel-grey eyes over clear-cut cheekbones and what it was doing to her insides. 

Quynh’s fingers tightened on the reception desk. It could have been a trick of her imagination, but for a moment, she thought Andy lingered there, at the top of the steps. Looked at her, really looked at her, until the knot that’d been forming in Quynh’s stomach felt fit to burst, before casting her gaze downward again and trudging up one of the staircases. _Wishful thinking_ , Quynh corrected herself. That was the term she was looking for.

“You alright?” Joe asked. Both him and Nile were looking at her. Quynh hadn’t even realised she’d sucked in a sharp intake of breath. No wonder people were scared of her if that’s what Andy could do with just one _look_.

“Yeah, fine!” She pasted a smile onto her face. “Sorry, I zoned out for a bit. How do we find our room?”

That must have been convincing enough, because Nile returned her smile without missing a beat. “Oh, I was just saying to Joe, one of the senior members of staff was wondering if you’d be happy to change rooms with them. The change would probably actually work out in your favour, you’d have a slightly bigger room on the top floor of the manor where most of the rest of the senior staff is accommodated, but I just wanted to check.”

Quynh and Joe looked at each other. Then they both shrugged. “Fine by me.”

“Great!” If Nile managed to smile this One-Million-Watt Smile she was currently sporting at every point in her life, she was going to go far. “Just wait here for a second, I’ll let them know and then I’ll show you to your room. Help yourselves to one of the welcome packs!”

As she bounded off, Joe stepped up to one of the long tables and peaked into one of the bags.

“Trade you my booze for the journal?”

Quynh laughed. “Deal.”

* * *

There were many things in life that Andy was prepared to deal with. Getting rid of a small rodent infestation in her student kitchen had been one of them. Exchanging a car tire at the side of the M25 another. She even jumped from a crashing plane, once.

But some things were just not _on_ , and spending this godforsaken weekend in a room not just on the same floor as, but directly opposite Lykon’s, was one of them. No way in hell was she going to risk running into him before she’d even had her coffee in the morning. Particularly as he was the reason she was even at this stupid corporate weekend in the first place.

It had been a shitty situation. Arguably, most board meetings Andy had to go to were shitty situations, but this one was a personal worst. They’d just been wrapping up some discussion about branding when Lykon had leaned over to Merrick and said: “Oh, by the way, thanks for the invite to the _Partners Weekend_ , Steven. I’m looking forward to introducing you to Meredith.”

“Ah-hah, it’s my very pleasure!” Merrick had said, and reached to clap him on the back. “Finally replaced Andy then?”

She’d practically been forced to look up from her phone and glare at both of them.

“Seems that way!” Their laughter had been forcefully cheerful, although she was glad to say it faltered when they looked at her. “You coming as well then?” Lykon had asked.

And now, the smart thing would have been to say no. It would have been the smart thing, and it was what she should have done. Maybe also told Lykon to go fuck himself, just for old times’ sake.

But then Merrick had said, “You simply _must_ , Andy. It’s your first _Partners Weekend_ as an official Partner, you can’t let Lykon and me have all the fun.”

And Andy knew what that was code for. That was code for ‘don’t come, watch me side with Lykon at every single board meeting for at least the next six months, and risk getting your suggestions vetoed at every turn,’ because Merrick was an immature, spiteful prick who enjoyed that sort of power play.

And she liked to think she was pretty immune to it, usually. That she didn’t really give a fuck about whether he decided to run his own company into the ground as long as he paid her the way he did. But in that moment, she had been tired, already worn down by that stupid board meeting, and the thought of purposefully making her job _harder_ had made her stomach curdle.

So she’d said, “Yep. Sure. You’ll see me there,” and fucked off before they could ask her who she was going to bring.

Nicky was sitting at the edge of the bed when Andy came back into the room after she’d decided to demand a switch. From the looks of it, he’d been sitting idle while waiting for her, and even now only cocked his head with that small smile of his on his face.

“ _Prego_ , do I start unpacking? Or are we moving?” he asked.

Because of course he did. Of course Nicky had waited for Andy to come back and tell him if she had managed to follow through on her whim. Because it was Nicky, the guy who decided to spontaneously put his own life on hold just because a family friend had asked a stupid, stupid favour.

Andy’s face broke out in a grin. This weekend was probably going to be a nightmare, but at least she had Nicky with her, and his loyalty to count on.

“We’ll see,” she said, and let herself fall onto the bed next to him, nudging their shoulders together. “I’m quietly confident.”

Nicky nudged her shoulder back. “So we’re moving.”

They sat there for a moment staring at the door of their room.

“Probably,” Andy said. “Just need to know where.”

She knocked their elbows together. Nicky poked her in the ribs. Andy turned to smile at him, which she hoped conveyed how happy she was that he was there with her. But then that sort of hung in the air between them, and the whole weekend was already too full with sickly-sweet sappiness for her liking, so she had to reach up and tousle his hair with her fingers as well.

“What are you, five?” he replied, but naturally responded in kind. Because this was how they’d behaved ever since they were children.

“I’m just preparing you for your uncle duties!” She laughed as she fended off his hands from destroying her hair, and before long they were both up, circling and getting ready to wrestle each other.

It was perhaps a tad unfortunate that Nile had to come in at the point Andy finally managed to get Nicky into a chokehold on the floor and decided to see if she’d be able to braid some of his hair with one hand.

“Uhm, sorry to interrupt,” Nile said. Andy immediately let go off Nicky, who sat up and scooted about five feet away from her, messing up the braids with his fingers. She shot him a look. Granted, wrestling wasn’t exactly the most couple-y behaviour, but shying away from her after, made it look so much _worse_.

Then they both turned to look at Nile from where they were sitting on the floor, and to her credit, she managed to look like that wasn’t the weirdest thing she’d seen that day.

“Uh, I found someone who’d be willing to switch room with you,” she said. “It’d be on the ground floor, so you wouldn’t be with the rest of the executive suite and the view isn’t as nice but-“

“Perfect,” Andy interrupted her, as she pulled herself up to a standing position again. “We’ll take it.”

“Great,” Nile said, and gave them a moment to get their bags together before leading the way to their new room.

“Who was it, out of interest?” Andy asked, while they were on the stairs. “Who decided to switch?”

“Joe. Uh, I mean. Yusuf al-Kaysani?”

“The design guy?”

“The very one.” Nile turned around to smile at her. Andy remembered seeing him at reception behind her. She’d worked with him a couple of times before, and he’d always been the kind of person that was so effortlessly funny, effortlessly open, she felt like she should’ve known, somehow, that he was married to one of the most ridiculously beautiful women on the planet. When she’d seen her standing there, she definitely felt like she recognised her from somewhere. But then, Andy never shared any kind of personal information with anyone, and this was not the kind of information Joe would have volunteered anyway. She certainly wouldn’t broadcast she was married to a model if that was the case.

“Please tell him I said thank you,” she told Nile, “and that he’s got something good with me.”

Nile laughed. “I’m sure he’ll be glad to hear it. Here you go! Hope all is to your satisfaction, and just pop by the entrance hall again if there’s anything else.”

They thanked her as she took off again, and Nicky gave her a strange look as they jostled their bags into their new room.

“What?”

“Are you always like this with your colleagues?” he asked, in a tone that told her he knew the answer to the question already. So she just glared at him until he huffed a laugh at her.

“Come on, let’s get this stuff unpacked and then take a look around.” Nicky opened his suitcase. “I believe I was promised free stuff.”

Andy checked her phone for the time. “Sure, sure, but we’ve got to go to the welcome ceremony first. Which I think we’re already late for.”

Nicky’s hand stilled between his shirts. “Oh you _have_ to be kidding me.”

* * *

Joe had always hated the way Steven Merrick gave speeches, and the welcome speech to the _Partners Weekend_ was no different. There was just something about the way he paused in between sentences, in between words, that was way too aggressively curated to come across as charismatic.

Like. Joe could _tell_ that Merrick had paid a rhetoric coach some good money, and likely put in a few hours to make sure he enunciated his words and that his voice carried through the room. But he was still the _worst_ public speaker Joe had ever heard.

“I am delighted,“ awkward pause, “that you are all joining me here today at Hampton Manor, for this year’s Merrick Industries Partners Weekend.” Very long pause between sentences. “We are a young company,” a pause that could’ve been half as long, “we are a lean company,” this pause, too, “and yet,” incredibly long pause that really promised way more than it delivered, “Merrick Industries’ pharmaceuticals consistently deliver above the industry standard, and, dare I say, have revolutionised the healthcare sector in the UK and EMEA regions.”

There was polite applause around the room, and Joe shared a meaningful look with Quynh. They’d been to a number of networking events and company launches over the years, and were now watching the speech from their usual vantage point for such occasions: The spot right next to the door. This was because Quynh liked to ‘read a room’ before she spoke to anyone, and Joe didn’t like to be stared at. Not that he minded attention, generally. He just preferred when it was someone observing how well-cut his shirt was over someone wondering what on earth he was doing at an event like this.

Merrick was a good few paragraphs into his opening speech – finally picking up some sort of momentum – when the door next to them slid open to allow some latecomers.

A few heads turned to observe this before idly focussing on Merrick again, because really, it was nothing out of the ordinary. If Joe had had to put money on anyone being late to the welcome ceremony, he probably would’ve picked Andy anyway, given the amount of times she’d showed up to meetings midway through, cradling a cup of coffee bigger than her face.

She smiled at Joe as she stepped into the room, then returned to her neutral glare as she followed the speech.

_Huh_. Since when did Andy smile at people?

Maybe Merrick’s awkward pauses were in fact some sort of trance activation pattern, and Joe had finally begun to hallucinate. It was that, or he really should have laid off the _ghoriba_ his sister had made the night before when she told him too, and he was experiencing a delayed sugar rush of some kind.

Whatever it was, it had a lot of things to account for, such as the thoughts that came to Joe’s mind when he saw the guy who came into the room and closed the door behind himself and Andy.

The first was: _Now that is an_ awful _combination of shirt over t-shirt._

The second was: _Those jeans hide a criminal-looking ass, though._

And the third was: _I can’t believe I just had that thought about Andy’s partner._

Because of course, the man had come with her. Joe offered a quick thank you to whoever was willing to listen that his thoughts were safe and sound in his head alone. Particularly as it appeared that he wasn’t done having them, when the guy looked over his shoulder and straight at Joe.

Had he been staring? It was highly likely. He certainly would have been if he’d known that the guy didn’t just have a great ass, but also eyes the colour of a deep and stormy sea. There was a piercing quality to the look he gave Joe before he turned away, but there was also something more soulful there. A sense of familiarity, like a distant memory, or maybe a dream Joe once had. And wouldn’t that make for a corny pick-up line: _H_ _ave we met before or have I just seen you in my dreams?_

He groaned internally. What was wrong with him? He could hardly give Quynh grief about looking like she wanted to poach some of Merrick’s management team, if he couldn’t even go half a welcome ceremony without thinking about hitting on their partners.

Inappropriate didn’t even begin to cover it. He quickly took Quynh’s hand and turned his attention back to Merrick, who was just wrapping up his speech.

“And for that reason alone, I am extremely proud that this weekend we are also joined by the renowned Dr Kozak, who will give a presentation about our new development in due course. This will also give me the chance to unveil a pretty exciting project I’ve been working on, and I’m looking forward to hearing everyone’s thoughts on the matter. But!” He clapped his hands. “Enough business for the time being. You are here to enjoy yourselves. And you know why? Because you have earned it. So without further ado…”

Merrick opened his arms and bowed forward, which appeared to have been a signal, as waiters with trays of champagne flutes and finger food flooded the room.

General chatter rose around them, and as so often with speeches, it felt like everyone took a fresh breath of air now that it was over. Quynh stroked the back of his hand with her thumb, but dropped it when two waiters approached them. “Ah, finally, just what I was promised.” 

She flashed a smile at the waiter with the champagne flutes and took two, while Joe picked up two mini goat cheese quiches from the other. He dimly registered that Andy and her partner had turned to take some food and alcohol from the same waiters, but in an effort not to let things get too awkward yet – there was a chance that they would leave and talk to someone else still! – he just made a face at Quynh and lifted the two quiche in the air.

She laughed, lifting the two champagne flutes in return, because they hadn’t orchestrated that bit particularly well, neither of them now having a free hand. It was hard to have a wordless conversation about boundaries, but Quynh was still smiling, so he didn’t think he overstepped any when he held one quiche to her mouth, eyebrow raised.

She dignified this with half an eye roll, but leaned forward to bite the quiche from his fingers. Joe laughed when she did a little flourish to demonstrate that she’d managed to eat it without spilling any of the champagne, but was interrupted by a shattering noise next to him. In the resulting silence in their part of the room, he took a glass of champagne of Quynh and turned to see what happened.

To his surprise, it looked like Andy had dropped her glass of champagne. That, or she had gripped it so tightly it had burst into a thousand pieces in her hand. She swore, and crouched down to tidy some of the larger pieces, but Joe only dimly registered this, because her partner was staring at him as if he’d done something wrong. Which was a preposterous notion. Andy was the one who had dropped the glass, and if anything, her partner should be helping her tidy it up, not look at Joe like it was somehow his fault. To make a point about this, Joe would have normally bent down to help Andy himself, only he seemed unable to tear his eyes away from the man. How did Andy cope, being subjected to a gaze this intense on a daily basis? Joe was beginning to feel faint after only a few seconds.

He absentmindedly took a bite of his own quiche. This, too, was something this man seemed to take offence with, given how closely he tracked the motion of Joe’s fingers. Some people just couldn't be helped, no matter how hot they were. Joe was about to challenge him about it when a waiter showed up to help Andy clean up the mess, breaking the man’s line of sight.

“Thank you,” Andy said to the waiter, and brushed off her hands on her jeans, “If you’ll excuse me for a second.”

And then she marched out of the room, presumably to clean herself up. Her partner looked after her for a moment, then back at Joe, but just when Joe thought he was about to say something, he followed after her instead.

Joe looked at his quiche, then after the guy, and then at Quynh, who was taking a sip of her champagne.

“Was that too much?”

“I think so.” Joe shrugged and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Who knew there was such a thing as acting _too_ straight?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now who wants to bet Joe misinterpreted something there?


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we deal with smashing champagne glasses, chill pregnant ladies and even more misunderstandings.

When he was able to form a coherent thought again, Nicky knocked on the door of the bathroom Andy had just barricaded herself in. “Hey, it’s me. Do you need help?”

The tap was running on the other side of the door. “No, it’s fine. Just making sure I’ve got no splinters in my hand and blood on my clothes.”

So just a classic Friday morning for Andy then. “Do you want me to stay?”

“I’m fine, Nicky,” Andy said, in a tone that would have made a lot of other people bristle, but basically just told Nicky all he needed to know. Then, softer, “Be back in a sec.”

Nicky let his hand sink and slouched to the bathroom on the other side of the hallway. Its floor had more wooden panelling, which was inset onto the walls where the flowery wall paper didn’t reach. There were no windows, but dim lights and lavender scented hot towels did everything to create an environment that screamed ‘relax’. This was probably the nicest bathroom he was ever going to have a meltdown in.

Nicky stood in front of the full length mirror on the wall next to the door, and took a moment to look himself in the face before meeting his own reflection with his forehead. _What the_ fuck _had just happened?_

He hadn’t really paid any attention to what the CEO had been saying – at some point, all these speeches sounded the same anyway – but that was excusable. He’d only promised Andy he’d come with and tell people he was with her. And to begin telling her something in Italian whenever he spotted Lykon advancing to make sure he didn’t stick around.

But of course, it was more than that. What had been implicit in that promise was that he wouldn’t space out for minutes at a time staring at one of her colleagues, just because the man happened to have a _beard_ and that _smile_ and _dimples_. (And a very attractive wife, who he sometimes fed hors d’oeuvres to.) Nicky thought about knocking his head into the mirror a couple of times in the hope that it would get rid of that image in his mind, because who _knew_ when it was going to make an appearance next. (Well, he knew the context. Just maybe not the time.)

With a sigh, Nicky pushed himself off the mirror and grabbed one of the hot towels to dab at his face, even though he wasn’t entirely sure it would make him feel any less flushed. It was only, well. Nicky hadn’t been born the day before. Sometimes, you looked at people, and sometimes, they looked _back_ at you, and that didn’t always mean anything, of course, but _sometimes_ … He took another deep breath. Overanalysing the eye contact he’d just had with a married man (a _straight_ married man!) was not going to help him here.

He dug around his jeans pocket for his phone to see how much time he had left to go before this weekend was over – and how much of it he could feasibly spend locked in this bathroom.

There was a text from his sister. _It’s happening!_ 😱👶🏻🚑

He nearly dropped his phone in the sink as he scrambled to type a reply and call her at the same time.

She picked up on the first ring. “ _Pronto?”_

“Mia! _Oddio_ , are you okay? Are you in pain? Did you call an ambulance? Is Paolo with you?”

Mia only laughed at him, which was both reassuring and disturbing. “You need to relax, Nico, honestly, you sound nearly as panicky Paolo.”

“Of course he’s panicky, he’s going to be a father! How are you feeling?”

“Eh, I’m okay,” Mia said, “my water broke, so Paolo drove me to the hospital, but I have to say, nothing much has happened since. Not sure I’ve even had a proper contraction yet, so I’m just lying in this hospital bed watching reruns of _Sanremo_.”

Nicky smiled at himself in the mirror. He could picture the scene only too well, given that Mia and him had spent an awful lot of time as teenagers doing the exact same thing. Well, maybe not in hospital beds. And Mia hadn’t been heavily pregnant then, either.

“Have you got some _taralli_ with you? Are you allowed to eat?”

“Paolo’s just getting some for me.”

He could hear her smile, and it made his heart soar. “Don’t torment him too much, you hear?”

“Oh come on, Nico, I’m about to give _birth_ here. When else am I supposed to torment him?”

“Pretty sure you’re marriage vows said ‘til death do you part, so I’m sure you’ll find some more opportunities.”

They shared a laugh and Nicky wished ferociously he could just take his bags and go to the airport immediately. But alas. He had two promises to keep.

“I’ve got to go, Mia, but please keep me up to date. I’ll be with you Sunday night,” he said.

“Last time you’ll be able to stay in the guest room before it becomes a nursery!”

“ _Ciao_ ,” he said, “can’t wait to meet her.”

Nicky hung up and gave himself another once over in the mirror, before going back to the party. He really, really couldn’t wait.

* * *

Quynh beckoned another waiter over and picked a selection of hors d’oeuvres, that she fully intended to eat by herself this time. The doors of the meeting room had been opened up, and people were beginning to spill out onto the terrace where a cold lunch buffet was being served, taking their drinks and conversations with them.

“So,” she said to Joe, “who do we need to speak to get you that promotion?”

Joe sputtered before the glass he was about to drink out of had even touched his lips, but she tackled him with a look before he could call her too direct again.

He sighed. “James is a good point to start, I guess. I report into him. But really, Quynh, I-“

“Joe, all I want to do is enjoy this weekend. And insane as that sounds, that’s easier for me to do if you’re not bouncing around next to me like a ball on a string of anxiety. So let’s just make sure this whole thing hasn’t been in vain, and then you can watch me get day-drunk and tell your work friends anecdotes about how we ‘met.’”

The fact that Joe harboured ambitions to open his own firm was a secret at Merrick Industries, so they had agreed on an updated version of how they’re friendship had begun. Well, relationship; and a part of Quynh’s conditions for the weekend had been that she got to pick the details.

Joe groaned. He’d argued that them meeting at a UCL lecture series on early modernist approaches to feminist architecture _may_ defeat the point of what they were doing, but of course, she’d won in the end.

“So, who’s Copley?” Quynh nudged him with her shoulder and followed his gaze. “The guy over there speaking to Merrick?”

Joe nodded miserably, but didn’t resist when Quynh linked their hands and dragged them over to the two men.

“Mr Merrick?” She channelled the One-Million-Watt smile she’d seen on Nile earlier that day as he turned around to face her. Her mother hadn’t brought her up to be unkind, but she be damned if this man didn’t share some genetic material with a potato.

“Oh, please, call me Steven.” He held out his hand, and when she took it, _genuinely_ went to kiss the back of it. What did they teach men these days? “And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

“My name is Quynh,” she said, and pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Two could play this game. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Joe striking up a conversation with Copley. _Good_. “I’m married to Joe, and I just wanted to say thank you for inviting us this weekend. Hampton Manor is truly stunning and I can just tell it’s going to be the most beautiful weekend.”

Merrick folded his hands together in a silent clap. “Oh, I am so pleased to hear you say that, Quynh, and I can assure you, the pleasure is all mine. Does Yusuf take you out to the country much?”

“When he gets the chance.” She could feel the smile becoming forced. “He is very devoted to his job, of course.”

“Ah, that he is, that he is,” Merrick replied, “Are you in the design field as well then? Do we _bore_ you with all our chat about business?”

Not forced. Glacial.

“Not at all. I was an associate at Steineck & Partners, but I have my own consultancy now. Let me give you my card.” She handed him her glass of champagne to hold, delighting in his bafflement, then fished a card for him out of your purse. “I am, in fact, very much looking forward to hearing about your project announcement tomorrow. Make sure to give me a call if it’s an expansion plan.”

She finished her, arguably, rather direct pitch with a little wink, and could tell that Merrick was teetering in bewilderment on whether to be offended or amused by her. To Quynh’s relief, the latter won out and he let out a yelp of a laugh before pocketing her business card.

“Ah, Yusuf,” he said to Joe over her head, “you’ve got quite the wife there, haven’t you? See, this is why I always say these weekends are so important. How else would I have known what a firehouse you’d brought with you?”

Joe smiled, clearly wondering what on earth Quynh had told Merrick, and she risked one meaningful glance at him. Being spoken about like she wasn’t there in the presence of a man she belonged to _sure_ got old quickly, and she’d only had the experience for an hour or two.

“I’m very glad you like her,” Joe said awkwardly, and rook her hand again. She wasn’t entirely sure who of them he was trying to comfort with that, but it was working for her. “She’s the most determined person I know.”

Copley was smiling at them and Quynh mentally congratulated herself to a plan well executed. What was a bit of casual sexism in the face of helping a friend and getting a business card to one of the biggest pharma execs in the world? Still a very bitter pill to swallow, it turned out. But in this case, not without merit.

“That is very sweet,” Merrick told Joe. “And actually, it reminds me, you know that poster you designed for us a couple of months ago?”

If Joe didn’t, his nod didn’t show.

“I was going to use it in the announcement tomorrow, and was wondering if you could give everyone a little overview of the concept design and the ideas for symbolism we’d discussed when we came up with it? Just to levitate the whole thing a little, I know there are people here who might go in more for that stuff than the hard-hitting facts.”

“Of course, sure,” Joe said, and Quynh squeezed his hand.

“Good man.” Merrick clapped his shoulder, and Quynh was sure she could feel its impact through Joe’s body herself. “But what are we doing inside on a beautiful day such as this? Let me show you around the grounds, Quynh. Did you know Hampton Manor has an indoor and outdoor pool?”

* * *

Quynh, as so often, had been right. It was a great idea for Joe to speak to Copley, even if just to show his face and say hi, because the man had been… strangely relaxed. Or as relaxed as anyone could be within spitting distance of Steven Merrick, but he’d laughed at a Joe made and told him it was good to see him at the _Partners’ Weekend_ , so Joe was counting it as a win. _And_ he had been asked to present some of his work together with Merrick. He didn’t know how these weekends usually went, but given that the schedule was more on the light entertainment, rather than the corporate side, it seemed like a pretty big deal.

And of course, Quynh had also been right about telling people they’d met at a feminist lecture series. Joe’s reluctance to go with it – not because he wouldn’t go, on the contrary – had been based on the assumption that it didn’t exactly scream, “I am a straight man, and I have a _wife_!” 

What it did seem to do, however, was say assuredly, “I am a… man(?) And I _love_ my wife!” At least, that was the impression Joe was getting from the reaction to the story by the many, many women on the terrace who had asked him and Quynh about how they met. So many cooing noises and hands pressed over hearts, while husbands would look at him with begrudging admiration over their wives’ shoulders.

It made him feel strangely sheepish, like he was fourteen again, and branded a “ladies man” by his school teachers because most of his friends were girls. But their heteronormative worldview – didn’t even need a lecture series to know that concept! – was hardly his fault. Nor was the fact that most women seemed to appreciate when men made an effort with their appearance. And the last time he checked, you didn’t need to be gay for that.

He was contemplating this as he was chewing on a carrot stick covered in a sad excuse for hummus and let his gaze sweep over the various attendees to this weekend. Well, that wasn’t quite true. But he wasn’t ready to admit that it was because he’d seen Andy and her partner again and had been taken aback by how much some people seemed to prize practicality over style. Not that Andy seemed to mind, but this man could look so good if he made the smallest bit of an effort. Not that he didn’t already look delectable, but-

Joe realised he was staring again when Andy caught his eye and not only smiled at him again, but also began to walk in his direction. He’d never chewed and swallowed a carrot so quickly.

“Hi Joe,” she said, when she reached the little spot in the shade Quynh and Joe had sought shelter under. “How are you?”

He’d been right to eat his carrot as quickly as possible, otherwise he surely would have choked on it then. First Andy smiled at him, and then she came over to make small talk? While her partner lumbered behind her to stare him down with those big, familiar eyes of his again? Yeah.

“Andy, hi! I’m great, how are you doing? Enjoying _Partners Weekend_?”

“Yeah, thank you, it’s all right, isn’t it?” She looked from him to Quynh for a second, and Joe wondered not just for the first time that day what the protocol to introducing her was. Did he ask after his colleagues’ partners first? Did he just volunteer Quynh’s identity? It always seemed so pointless. Quynh was very good at introducing herself. She’d managed to slip Merrick her business card within around five minutes of meeting him, after all. But when he looked over at her, Quynh was giving him a look that he couldn’t quite interpret.

“This is Quynh,” he finally decided to say, and watched as Quynh offered Andy her hand. She looked so taken aback by this tiny attempt of human contact, that Joe nearly laughed out loud. It sure was for the best that Andy was only on the management side. A client might take the short and firm handshake followed by an intense moment of eye contact the wrong way.

“Listen,” Andy continued, and looked back at Joe, “I just wanted to come over to say thank you. Nile told me you two were so kind as to change room with us when you didn’t have to, so. Just thought it’d be the right thing to do.”

“Oh, that’s absolutely no problem at all,” Quynh said, “the room is great.”

In Andy-terms, she was downright beaming at Quynh. Joe wondered if he’d ever seen her smile that much in the year that he’d known her, much less a single day.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

A moment of silence fell over their group while Joe’s gaze idly drifted over to Andy’s partner again, the question of his identity hanging sort of unspoken in the air. There really was no protocol for this, was there? Or rather there was. They just seemed to be incredibly bad at sticking to it. Joe resisted the urge to scan the crowd for a sign of Booker. He was not going to make it without him much longer.

“Oh, of course,” Andy said, catching on what her partner and Quynh were telling her with their eyes, “I’m sorry, I should have introduced you. This is my-“ She gestured up and down the man at her side. “Nicky.”

The man made a very small, incredulous sound at the back of his throat then shook Quynh’s hand.

“ _Nicolò_ , pleased to meet you,” he corrected Andy, “but yes, you can call me Nicky, too.”

His hand was warm, and somehow softer than Joe imagined, a fact that nearly didn’t register in Joe’s brain. He was too busy trying to resist the urge to shove most of his knuckles into his mouth, and bite down on them, hard. Or do anything really, that would tell him that this was, in fact, real life, and not just some hyper-realistic nightmare of the particularly cruel kind. Because of course, _of course_ , the man had to have a voice that was deep and butter-soft, an Italian accent weighing down his vowels.

“Joe,” he rasped by way of introduction and cleared his throat. Yeah. He was not getting out of that one. There was a high chance his brain had actually short-circuited this time, because there was absolutely nothing he could think to say.

Well, there was one question that seemed to be inevitable, but Joe wasn’t sure he was ready to hear it again.

Which naturally meant that Quynh asked it in his stead: “So, how did you two meet?”

There was a bizarre ritual that every couple seemed to go through when asked that question. It was seemingly impossible for anyone to answer it without looking at their partner, smiling in unison the way you only do when a memory is particularly pleasant, or funny, or significant, before maybe linking hands, or pointing at the other person and saying something sappy like, “She kept mis-dialling the number to her GP and it was me who she reached instead.”

Andy and Nicky did… none of these things. For someone who had been giving out smiles like they were going out of fashion – by usual standards – Andy’s face became downright glum as she stared at Quynh, and Nicky looked, if anything, in pain. Which was a shame, because Joe had seen the beginnings of a smile on his lips when he’d introduced himself, and he felt like Andy deserved to see it from time to time. Maybe he did, too.

“He’s a family friend,” Andy said eventually.

“Aww, that’s nice,” Joe replied, because that was the only acceptable thing you were allowed to say, no matter what kind of story the other person had told. “So you were childhood sweethearts and are still together?”

Both Andy and Nicky had now moved to look at him, but his question seemed to perplex them both. Joe had never pretended to understand straight people, but the reaction seemed a bit extreme.

Andy was beginning to nod, when Nicky said, “No, I only moved here when I was eighteen, but we knew each other from before.” He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and finally, finally looked at Andy with a small smile. “I stayed with Andy’s family for the first couple of months. I’ll forever be grateful for that.”

Joe realised he had played his “aww, that’s nice” card too early. How was he supposed to react to that?

“I bet your parents are delighted that you ended up together,” Quynh commented, “No fights with the in-laws!”

Andy and Nicky did look at each other then, but Joe could make no sense of that particular non-verbal conversation, before they both said, in the most unenthusiastic way you could possibly react to that statement: “Yes.”

Joe didn’t really drink. But the whole conversation was beginning to feel like a good point to start. If all failed, he’d have a glass that he could drop to the floor to get out of it. Never let it be said he didn’t constantly try and learn from senior staff.

To his immense relief, that was the moment he spotted Booker making his way across the terrace to them. Usually late, sure, but it turned out the man could be just on time when it mattered.

“Hello everyone,” Booker said and joined their little group in the shade by standing between Andy and Joe. “How is it going?”

“Hi Book,” Andy said, “Where is Sophie?”

Joe tried to smile as if this was, again, a completely normal thing to happen. And not the way he found out that his workmate was on nickname-terms with the senior management VP.

“She saw how you were all standing over here without drinks so she’s just commandeering a waiter into bringing some more over. Ah, _la voilà_!”

Sophie appeared at Booker’s side with a tray of drinks and began handing them out with a conspiratorial grin. Joe _knew_ he liked that woman for a reason.

“Hello everyone, I thought you could use some of these,” she said, then pulled Joe into a hug when she was done. “And Joe, so good to see you, it’s been too long! I love the waistcoat, why can’t you get Sebastien to wear things like this?”

Booker met Joe’s eyes with a look that was a distinct form of the phrase “Don’t you dare.” But Joe only grinned back at him, because it wasn’t like Joe didn’t know Booker had at least one tailored suit with him, and that it was going to make an appearance during the weekend. Sophie was one lucky lady for sure.

They laughed and exchanged pleasantries, and Joe could have happily stayed in this moment, the first easy conversation, the least the awkward moment he’d had to live through so far – but of course, Sophie had to go and introduce herself to Quynh.

“I’m sorry, I don’t think we have been introduced yet. I’m Sophie, who are you?”

“Lovely to meet you.” Quynh shook her hand, and in a small moment of premonition, Joe saw how this was all going to go wrong. “I’m Quynh, Joe’s wife.”

It took maybe two seconds of Sophie still shaking Quynh hands, perhaps deciding whether she had misheard. Then she started to laugh.

And not just a gentle chuckle. A full-blown, throw-back-your-head-and-wipe-tears-from-your-eyes laugh, and Joe wondered if _this_ was the moment to drop his glass. Trying to drown himself with champagne seemed too obvious, but it is was his best choice.

“Of course,” Sophie said, switching to easy sarcasm once she could speak again, “and I’m Sebastien’s long lost sister! I mean we’ve been hoping Joe would find someone for a while now, but this is a bit extreme, I mean-“

“ _Chérie,”_ Booker said, taking her hand. “ _Pas ici, je te le dirai plus tard._ ”

To her immense credit, Sophie didn’t start a minor argument in French right there and then, but just muted her smile and came to stand next to Booker. Joe shot him a panicky look over Sophie’s head that he hoped encapsulated just how grateful he was.

Joe barely dared to raise his eyes at Andy and Nicky, who for some reason weren’t even looking at him. They were both glaring daggers at Sophie, which was the last thing Joe had expected. The glares had a very particular brand of charged intensity that made Joe glad not to be at their receiving end, and _also_ made him think that Andy and Nicky probably had pretty spectacular hate sex when they were fighting. Because apparently, he wasn’t done having inappropriate thoughts for the day. 

Joe eyed his glass, which was already looking depressingly empty. There wasn’t enough champagne in the world for this.

At that point, Steven Merrick decided to ping his spoon against his glass to get everyone’s attention: “I hope everyone’s had a chance to have something from the buffet, have some champagne. I hope you all know each other a little better, because now-“ He paused at a point that wasn’t entirely awkward, but his face still looked like that of a child who was about to tell their parents a surprise they were going to hate. “It’s time for some afternoon croquet!”

Joe downed his champagne and put it on a little table behind him, before meeting Quynh’s eyes again to see if she was ready. Her face didn’t betray much, but he could tell that she was as relieved as he was the situation was over.

Only. Did they have to be saved by Merrick, of all people?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The eagle-eyed reader _may_ have noticed that the names of Nicky's sister and her partner are those of the protagonists in _Il padre d'Italia_. The author would like them to know that she is aware, and that that is simply the kind of meta nonsense she enjoys.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for some croquet, and some _prolonged eye-contact_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Joe Wilkinson voice* "Let's play [croquet](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ek95niBur_Y&ab_channel=panelshowsource)!"
> 
> Also, tiny, tiny CW: It's not a weekend in the English countryside without people getting royally trousered, so there's quite a bit of alcohol being consumed in this chapter (and will be in the rest of the fic). Everyone is having fun and engaging with it somewhat safely, but I just thought I'd mention it in case that's the kind of thing that bothers you.

“Andy, do you need help?”

She turned to shoot a glare at Nicky, who was doing a less-than-admirable job of hiding his smirk behind his hand.

It took a lot to get Andy to admit she was bad at something. Not that she often had to. She was more than competent at a great many things. Her job for example, she was brilliant at. Sex? Absolutely incredible. (And she could say that without bragging, it was a pretty feedback-based exercise after all.)

But Croquet? Croquet was like the tame version of golf or hockey, if you took away the only elements that made them fun: the vigour and the violence. So naturally, it had been deemed the perfect pastime for this weekend.

She was playing a game with Nicky, Booker and Sophie, and had made the mistake of deciding to pair up with Booker instead of Nicky on this occasion. It turned out that in a game that required patience and precision, pairing up with the guy who’d slipped the waiter some money to ‘keep the booze coming this way’ was not the very best of strategies.

Or, it wasn’t a particularly great strategy to advance past the first hoop. It was a great strategy to get day-drunk, and as a result, she was only marginally more sober than Booker when Nile came their way and asked if she could join one of their teams while she had some spare time.

“He-hey, Nile, of course!” Booker said and beckoned her over, “You can help me and Andy beat their asses.”

Andy thought very highly of the fact that Nile didn’t immediately agree to this proposition just to appease them. It would have been a pretty silly thing to do given how much Nicky and Sophie were laughing at them. Although if she had been able to think a little clearer, she might have insisted, so they’d at least be able to leave the court pride somewhat intact.

“I don’t know anything about Croquet,” Nile admitted. “Are you any good?”

“No,” Nicky called from the third hoop, “they’re terrible. Come join us, I’ll show you how to play.”

It was, as they say, an offer she couldn’t refuse, and so Andy and Booker watched as their only chance at redemption formed an alliance with the devil. Not that Nicky was evil. Or Sophie, although Andy was slightly less clear on that. (The woman had just laughed in the face of a man because she seemed to deem his wife too beautiful for him. And she’d married Booker, so who knew what that said about her mental state.)

“Traitor!” Booker called after Nile, and Andy found herself cackling with delight before she had to focus on the task at hand again: Getting this damn ball through the damn hoop.

She took aim. She steadied her mallet. She struck her ball. And she missed the hoop.

“Ugh,” Andy groaned, but Booker was already passing her a new glass of champagne. “I feel drunker than I was at 5am on Sunday last _Partners Weekend_.”

“When we crashed the pool?”

“When we crashed the pool.” They shared a smile at the memory, then drank in commiseration as they watched Nile score her first hoop under the instruction of Nicky. She cheered, mallet raised in the air, and Nicky touched her shoulder and smiled while Sophie clapped her hands together.

For some reason, Andy hadn’t considered this. She’d thought that maybe she’d bring Nicky along and together they’d suffer through a slightly awkward weekend. She’d assumed Nicky would slip into the background as he so often liked to do, barely sticking to anyone’s memory, and then no one would question if she never really brought him up again. She felt bad that she hadn’t even considered that he might just fit in naturally with the people he met here, slotting seamlessly into yet another part of her life.

Booker nodded his chin in Nicky’s direction: “Pretty generous of you to come here with a croquet mastermind and then still decide to play with me.”

“I might not have if I’d known,” Andy grumbled, but they were both just teasing.

“Where’d you pick him up then?”

She shrugged with one shoulder and took another sip of her drink. “He’s a family friend. I’ve known him for ages, really. Should’ve figured he’d be good at croquet, to be honest, I always lost playing _Operation_ , too.”

Booker nodded, and they trudged over to where he was about to make his next shot. “And he’s from Italy, right?”

Andy nodded. “You can guess where I spent my family holidays.”

Booker smiled at her, but his gaze slipped over her shoulder to where she assumed Nicky was standing.

“And his full name is Nicolò, that right?”

In a slightly pointless move, Andy turned to look at Nicky to see if anything about him could have given that away. The champagne really was clogging up her brain. “Yeah, why are you asking?”

Booker took his shot – another miss, quite catastrophically off this time – and they both took another sip. They could not do this much longer, there had to be a point where they advanced past the first hoop _somehow_. She sat her glass down on the lawn.

“I think you told me about him before,” Booker said, “is he the Nicolò who made you drive him to modelling gigs when he was a student?”

“When did I tell you that?” Andy was trying to remember a great deal of conversations she’d had with Booker, but the problem appeared to be that they all had one thing in common: a distinct level of moderate-to-substantial inebriation.

Booker shrugged. “Can’t remember. So you only started dating recently?”

“Yes. What is this, an interrogation?” It was Andy’s turn to play again, but she took the time to slap Booker’s shoulder and roll her eyes before she stalked off to where her ball had last come to rest.

“No, no, I was just wondering.” Booker’s voice carried after her. “Is it the same Nicolò who moved to England because he wasn’t sure how his parents were going to take the fact that he’s gay?”

 _Fuck_. Andy had never actually felt herself sober up in an instant, but there was a first time for everything. The sentence stopped her clean in her tracks, and all she could do was turn to look at Booker with wide eyes of bewilderment as she was desperately trying to remember _what_ , and _when_ , and most importantly _how much_ she had told Booker. Although he actually already knew all the important parts. _Fuck!_

“Don’t worry about it, Andy.” Booker smiled at her, although not maliciously. “From what I gather… it’s a pretty common problem to have.”

Andy’s brain was still in hyperdrive, so she blurted the only thing she could focus on long enough: “Don’t you dare tell anyone.”

“I won’t.”

“No, I mean it, don’t you-“

“Is everything okay over there?” Sophie called across the court. Andy hadn’t even noticed she’d been clutching her mallet the way others might a baseball bat, and that from a distance, it could very well look like she was planning on beating Booker up.

“Yeah, all good!” Booker replied, but kept looking at Andy, “Just had quite a bit of champagne, you know how it is, _chérie_.”

Andy could hear Sophie laughing, pictured her rolling her eyes, while she was trying to figure out how to best control the damage that was done. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten about this particular bit of intel.

“Look, Andy, it’s really not that big a deal, and you know I won’t say anything. I mean, just between us,” Booker said, “bringing a friend is better than hiring someone. Which some of the other VPs are definitely doing. Have you _seen_ the woman Keane showed up with?”

Andy couldn’t say that she had, or that she cared. She was still conflicted about this colossal slip-up of hers, this absolute- But while these thoughts were still rattling around in her brain, her attention latched onto another thing Booker said.

“What about Lykon, do you think?”

Booker turned to follow her line of sight to the croquet court next to theirs, where Lykon was playing a game with Joe, Quynh and Meredith.

“I’m not sure,” he said, “but I’ll report back if I hear anything.” He tapped his nose and winked at her, and Andy guessed that that had to be enough for now.

She sighed and went over to her ball, now metres and metres away from the hoop it was supposed to go through. And she would be able to do it (at some point, eventually), but it wasn’t going to be this time. Her hands were shaking slightly, whether because of the booze or because she was angry with herself she didn’t know, but the wave of frustration that crashed over her was just too great as that she could have focussed on what she was doing anyway. So she just positioned her mallet like it was a golf club and whacked the ball as hard as she could.

In the grand scheme of the game, this had made her position _so much_ worse – but as she jogged after the ball to the hollers of Nicky and Booker, she could feel some of her tension drain away.

It was going to be okay. Booker had no reason to tell anyone that she wasn’t actually dating Nicky, and even if he did – it would just sound like a weird and oddly petty smear campaign, a silly rumour. Nothing she hadn’t handled before.

Andy had catapulted the ball well and truly out of the range of the court, which meant she had to return it to the point where it had gone over. As she bent over to pick it up, a gentle voice behind her called out: “Would you like some help?”

In her effort to air her frustration, Andy hadn’t noticed that the ball had come to rest well and truly in the boundaries of the next court over, the one Lykon and the others were playing in. But this wasn’t Lykon’s voice, come to taunt. The offer sounded hesitant, almost, but genuine, and sure enough when she turned around, it turned out to be Joe’s wife instead – Quynh.

“I finished our court,” she said, a smile playing around her lovely mouth, “so let me know if you’d like me to show you-“

“Yes,” Andy said before she could help herself. She supposed she could always blame the alcohol later, but in front of her was a beautiful woman in a light, tailored linen suit, leaning on a croquet mallet like a walking stick, and Andy, at the end of the day, was only human.

“Okay.” Quynh’s smile widened, exposing a row of perfect teeth between plush lips. _Had they been this pink before?_ Andy vividly remembered crushing a champagne flute the last time she’d looked at this woman’s mouth for longer than a minute, and was glad she’d left her drink behind this time.

“So the first thing you need to do is relax your shoulders a bit,” Quynh instructed, and Andy didn’t have the heart to tell her that that was _not_ going to be possible. So she just watched as Quynh came to stand next to her, their elbows almost touching, to demonstrate.

“Here,” Quynh said, “croquet isn’t like golf, you don’t swing your mallet like a club.” She motioned for Andy to drop the ball she’d just picked up in front of her and then lightly touched her hip to turn her around until the ball was between her feet. It was at around this point that Andy decided coherent thought was entirely overrated. She could feel the little hairs on her legs stand up where Quynh touched her, a pleasant wave of sensation travelling up and around her hips, and took a deep breath before it came to pool somewhere low in her gut. A part of her brain registered how absolutely ridiculous she must look, holding mallet between her legs like that, but she also knew that right in that moment, she would do just about anything if it meant that woman touched her again.

“And then I just hit it like this?” she asked, swinging the mallet back and forth.

Quynh laughed, and Andy felt like she’d plunged her hand into a bowl of glass marbles. A sound wasn’t meant to be this pleasing to more senses than one, and yet-

“No, you need to hold it steadier, like this.“ For a moment, Andy really had thought that Quynh was just going to show her. So she wasn’t prepared at all when she stepped behind her instead, and closed her fingers around Andy’s on the mallet, showing her the points where she had to grip.

Not that Andy was taking any of it in. Her breathing had become very shallow, and her thoughts concerned only with where Quynh’s small, soft hands were closed around hers. Her body wasn’t actually touching Andy’s anywhere else, but she didn’t know if that made it better or worse: On the one hand, Andy didn’t know what she’d do if she’d felt Quynh’s body draped over her back right now, her hipbones touching Andy’s ass, but on the other, the _possibility_ that it might happen any second was an agony unlike Andy had ever known. So she more watched Quynh hit the ball with her mallet than take part in any of the motions herself, unable to move, unable to do anything before Quynh stepped away again.

“See, you’ve got much better control over the ball that way,” Quynh said from behind her somewhere, her voice the very epitome of nonchalance. “Do you wanna try it yourself?”

Andy closed her eyes. Oh, this wasn’t _fair_. But she was in it now, and she’d be damned if she backed out.

“Sure,” she said, and followed Quynh as they walked over to where she’d played the ball to – almost the exact spot Andy had to re-enter her game from.

“Have you been with Merrick Industries for a long time?”

It took Andy’s brain a moment to realise she had to form an answer, and wasn’t just allowed to use the question as an excuse to stare at Quynh. “A little less than a year,” she said.

“Are you enjoying it?” Quynh tucked a strand of her long, dark hair behind her ear.

“Some days,” Andy responded, taken aback by her own honesty. But in her defence, Quynh’s hair looked a lot softer this close, and she’d been busy imagining what it would feel like between her fingers to pay too much attention to her answer. “I’ve had a similar role in different corporations before, but Merrick was the first who gave me an opportunity to try my hand at pharma, so. Here we are.”

She chanced a smile of her own at Quynh as they reached the ball. Something in her stomach fluttered when the other woman glanced up at her, then away.

Andy tried to summon what little she’d been able to take in from Quynh’s lesson when she hit the ball again, but she must have retained some knowledge in her bones somehow. When she tried, the ball rolled clean back onto the court – and just where she’d have to re-enter the game from.

“Yay!” Quynh gave her a small cheer, clutching her hands under her chin, and Andy turned to smile at her, wide and uncomplicated. She didn’t really smile like that at a lot of people. But with the delight in Quynh’s eyes, she would have- Well. She would have smiled at her a whole lot longer if in turning around she hadn’t spotted Joe, who was slowly walking over to them.

She hadn’t even said anything, but the need to clear her throat was sudden and acute. This was a _married_ woman she was talking to. _What the hell was she doing?_

“Have you ever thought about going it alone?” Quynh asked, and it took Andy a moment to remember they’d been talking about her job.

She sighed. “Not really, no. The office politics are hell, usually, but you can get away with a lot if you just ignore what people say long enough without giving them a reason to fire you. What about you?”

“I knew I had to start my own business the second I set foot in an office for the first time,” Quynh said, and winked at her.

Andy wasn’t sure if the way her heartbeat reacted to that was one of her synapses finally burning through, or a plain old anxiety attack. The fact that Joe was in earshot now, and most definitely frowning, did nothing to help in any case.

“Hello there,” he said when he reached the two of them, “all going okay?”

Andy hadn’t even done anything, or nothing that she would say she shouldn’t have done, but it was quite hard not to feel guilty in the face of a man whose wife you spent the entire morning trying not to develop a crush on. Trying and failing, spectacularly.

“Your wife is teaching me croquet,” she said, and if that didn’t sound like the worst euphemism ever. “She’s really very good at it.” (And if that didn’t make it worse.)

“I can imagine.” Joe smiled at Andy the way he always did, but his face turned inscrutable when he looked at Quynh. She was giving him an innocent smile, like she’d just confessed to breaking his favourite mug, and Andy was definitely, definitely missing something from this exchange. But then again. She was pretty drunk. And it was happening entirely without words. Whatever it was, it didn’t appear to be her fault, and that had to be the best possible outcome for now.

Shouts of delight in the distance and a groan from Booker pulled her from her thoughts. Andy looked over at the game only to discover that Nile had just finished the court and was performing a rather inventive victory dance.

“It might have been in vain, though,” she sighed.

“That’s alright,” Quynh said. “We can have a rematch?”

Andy really, really shouldn’t. She also wasn’t entirely sure she could. Her and Quynh both looked at Joe, who appeared to be smiling at something Booker was doing.

“Please,” he said, “I’ll leave you to it.”

And then it was just Andy and Quynh again. And if that wasn’t the worst thing, and if that wasn’t the best thing.

* * *

Nile Freeman was not going to lie: There were days when being administrative assistant at Merrick Industries sucked big time. It was a huge-ass corporation where most employees remained names she’d never be able to put faces to, and the work was often so dull that she had to manifest an image of her graduation in front of her eyes to not just walk out of the door. But there were some pretty undeniable perks beyond the money, and a weekend away where she got to play – and win! – a silly lawn game with some of her nicer colleagues was definitely one of them.

“ _Ah, putain_ ,” Booker swore, but Nile could tell it was an act to get his wife to pat his cheeks. “Losing to a first-time player! This is the last straw, this is what’s finally going to get me denationalised.”

“What, why?” Nile was still laughing at him, giddy from her win.

“I just don’t think I can live with the dishonour of losing in a game that was invented in France, you know. They’ll have no option but to kick me out for good.”

“I wouldn't worry too much," Nicky chimed in, "I’m pretty sure croquet was invented in Italy." Given how much he had taught about the game, Nile found that she was willing to side with him over this.

“Oh, come on,” Booker said, “it’s called _croquet_ not _croquetti_.”

“That doesn’t mean much,” Nicky countered, “English people will come up with a French name for anything if they think it’s a posh thing to do.”

They all shared a laugh. 

“A fair point, but in this case- Ah!” Booker waved at Joe, who’d been making his way over to them. “Joe, you will be able to help us settle this! Please tell this gentleman to come to his senses and admit that croquet as a leisurely activity, some say sport, was invented in France.”

Joe looked about as perplexed as Nile was sure she would have if this question had been sprung on her without context. “I’m sorry?”

“ _Prego_ , this is ridiculous,” Nicky muttered, shaking his head. He was quite notably looking at his feet all of a sudden. “Croquet has been played in Italy for centuries, they just call it something else.”

“Uhm, yeah, Booker, I’m not sure I can help with this one,” Joe said, scratching his beard. “Could be you’re both right? I was just coming over to offer my commiserations and congratulations.”

“Yeah, put it here!” Nile offered him a fist bump, eager to leave this weird pissing contest behind her. It was one of the first things she’d noticed in London: The place was full of Europeans, and they all had several opinions about each other that were impossible to confirm or deny as an outsider. “Although I wouldn’t even know how to play without Nicky, so it’s his win, too.”

“Well, congratulations!”

Nicky looked up at Joe from where he’d spent a curiously long time contemplating his hands, and Nile noticed her mistake immediately. In successfully solving one awkward situation, she’d very, very effectively created another. Because Nicky and Joe weren’t going to share a fist bump, were they?

Nile imagined that there were a bunch of options available to them and the best one would’ve probably been for Nicky to just say “thanks, man” and move on. What happened instead was the sound of a sentence or a word she could physically see dying in his mouth, all the while the two continued to stare at each other.

Now, Nile Freeman wasn’t an idiot. She was young, granted, but one of her favourite things about Booker and Joe had always been that they’d never treated her as if that meant that she somehow knew less than them. Joe basically told her how smart she was on a daily basis! So being asked to buy this whole charade of him showing up with a gorgeous woman on his arm and telling Nile she was his _wife_? Yeah, that was an interesting development.

Almost as interesting as this eye contact, that she felt someone should really be timing for posterity’s sake. Because what was it her friend Dizzy’s always used to say? _There was no heterosexual explanation for this._ And she was evidently not the only one who thought so, because Booker also raised first one, then both eyebrows when she met his gaze. How bad would it be if she laughed?

Just when she thought she wouldn’t be able to take it anymore, Nicky’s phone rang and he excused himself with a mumbled, “Sorry, I have to take this.”

Nile let out the breath that had been running risk of becoming a laugh. “What time is it?” she asked.

Booker checked his watch for her. “Nearly three, why?”

She sighed. “I gotta get back to work, dinner plans aren't gonna organise themselves! But you guys keep playing, I’ll see you at Dr Kozak’s talk!” She smiled at Booker and Sophie, clapped Joe on the shoulder to pull him out of whatever mental rabbit hole he’d been going down, and made her way back to Hampton Manor.

It was just an admin role. It really didn’t mean much to Nile, and she used it only to put herself through university. But that was precisely why, she thought with a smile, it would be no problem at all if she got a little _creative_ with the seating plan for dinner that night...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More like croq-gay, amirite?? ~~(I'll see myself out.)~~
> 
> Yes, Booker and Nile have beer in the fridge and popcorn in the microwave and would like you to join them in watching this play out.
> 
> Also, how could I leave you without this most crucial information: Who is right? Nicky or Booker?? Was croquet invented in Italy or in France??? The answer will probably not surprise you, but I STRONGLY suggest you read [the third paragraph of the Wikipedia page for Croquet](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Croquet#History) and then come shout at me with your theories.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which people try to sober up (more or less successfully), go to a talk by Dr Kozak and have dinner together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I would like to apologise to anyone who actually knows anything about science. You will read this and roll your eyes (as the scientist in my life does all the time) but I _had_ to put Dr Kozak in this, because as much as I know you're all here for the eternal pining, I'm determined for this fic to have a _semblance_ of a plot at least. (Mini corporate heist, anyone?)
> 
> And secondly, thank you thank you thank you so much to everyone who's been leaving comments cheering these idiots (and me!) on - I can feel the outpour of love and excitement every time and it makes me so, so happy. THANK YOU!
> 
> P.S.: For the Italian bits in this chapter, just hover over the words and it should appear in English if I didn't mess up my formatting.

So it turned out croquet wasn’t actually all that terrible after all.

That was to say, Andy was still, ostensibly, _very bad_ at it, but it turned out she could be bad at something and still have the time of her life. And she’d begun to do that around the second time she pretended to have forgotten anything Quynh at showed her. This had first gotten her an additional demonstration (which she may or may not have hoped for) and after that a string of exasperated laughs from the woman.

It was hard not to laugh herself when Quynh laughed with her whole body, head thrown back. Only sometimes, a strand of Quynh’s long, dark hair would stick to her lips when she did and then Andy’s mouth would go dry, not managing even a chuckle. She really was extraordinarily lovely, and Andy, Andy was playing fire.

“Oh God, I _really_ need to sober up.” Andy dropped her mallet and clutched both hands over her face when Quynh beat her for the second time. She had stopped drinking when she’d started to play with Quynh, but all the champagne had slowed down her thoughts as it began to leave her system.

“Is there a way to get coffee somewhere around here?” Quynh asked. Andy watched her through her fingers, as she came over to her, a smile on her face betraying the slight concern in her voice. It shouldn’t be endearing, of all things, that she took Andy’s completely self-inflicted malady so seriously. Only Andy struggled to think of the last time someone had been concerned for her, and _wow_ , that was definitely something she needed examine in a little more detail later.

“Some pears would be ideal,” Quynh added.

Andy let her hands sink. “Pears?”

“Yep, pears and espresso should do the trick.” Quynh nodded towards the house. “Is there a kitchen somewhere?”

Andy was not entirely sure she followed, but she nodded in assent and beckoned Quynh to follow her to the kitchens, where, as luck would have it, they found a fruit basket and a coffee machine.

“Here, sit down.” Quynh gently pushed her towards one of the high chair after Andy stared at the coffee machine for a goof two minutes, wondering which button she needed to press in order to make it speak to her. There wasn’t much more than looking she could do, either, as Quynh jostled around her, cutting and coring two pears and getting the coffee machine to spit and sputter out richly dark liquid into a tiny cup.

The smell alone took Andy back to mornings on holiday spent entirely in bed with only a cup of coffee for company, sun slanting through roof windows, and she closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. If only because the image of what it might be like not to spend a morning like that alone was just around the next mental corner.

When she opened them again, Quynh pushed a little plate with some pear slices and an espresso towards her. “Here, drink first, then eat the pear. You’re not gonna be sober, but it’ll get you through- What’s next on the itinerary again?”

“Talk from Dr Kozak,” Andy said, knocking the espresso down in one gulp. “ _Fuck_. Sorry, I just really don’t want to go.”

“Why?” Quynh cocked her head, and Andy quickly grabbed a pear slice to munch on before she had to smile at her again.

“That woman gives me the creeps, to be honest.”

“Hey, what happened to female solidarity?” Quynh gently nudged her shoulder. Andy really hoped that the espresso was going to work its magic soon, because that was not something that should have nearly knocked her off the chair.

“It’s the 21st century,” she said around a piece of pear, “you can be a woman _and_ a creep now.”

“Hmm, I don’t believe it.” Quynh was mocking her, but Andy found she didn’t care. “Let’s go just to check and then we can bitch about it later if you turn out to be right.”

Because there was that smile again, and she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to follow it anywhere.

* * *

Joe was late for Dr Kozak’s talk. By about half an hour. Which, for a one hour talk, made it almost pointless to actually go. Only what was worse? People noticing he was late, but had come, or people noticing he hadn’t come at all?

In his defence, the fact that he was late in the first place was entirely Booker’s fault. When Nicky had gone off to take his call earlier, Booker had just slung an arm around Joe’s and Sophie’s shoulders and dragged them both to the bar that had just opened. Then he’d made sure that they both had at least two more cocktails, a point after which Joe had peeled himself off his chair and announced he needed to get some cold water into his face and maybe take a nap.

“Oh, a nap sounds good,” Sophie had said, and from the look she’d given Booker he’d known that he definitely wasn’t going see either of them at this talk, or at any point before dinner.

Only then Joe had overslept, so now he was late for Dr Kozak’s talk. He’d splashed water in his face again for good measure, in the hopes of maybe taking a little bit of heat out of his cheeks, but it was to no avail. He was just going to have to show up to this talk a little bit dishevelled, a little bit rumpled, and the world would not end.

Or at least, that’s what he’d been telling himself until he rounded the corner to the hallway of the presentation room. Because who should he see standing in front of the door, peering through its window, but Nicky, Andy’s partner. He turned when he heard Joe approach, clutching his phone in both hands in front of himself. He had changed since Joe had seen him last, now wearing a casual off-white shirt over dark jeans, and it gave Joe the tiniest hint of satisfaction to see he’d been right earlier. The man was _unfairly_ hot if he dressed properly.

“I’m late for this,” Nicky said somewhat inanely, as if they weren’t both in the same boat.

Joe only blinked at him first. His brain was too tired for too many thoughts on the subject.

“Work?” He gestured at the phone in Nicky’s hands.

“Oh no,” Nicky said, putting the phone in his pocket. “I’m on annual leave. It’s my sister, she’s about to have a baby. Well, she was about to have a baby, but it’s not coming so they’re trying to, what’s the word, induce her? So I was just talking to her to see how she’s doing but now I’m late for this, so- yeah.”

He seemed nervous, his hands fluttering around in one long ark before he shoved them deep into his jeans pockets and Joe was utterly, helplessly enamoured by this. A guy with quiet, intense stares who _rambled_ when he was excited?

“First time uncle?” Joe asked, grinning.

Nicky nodded, seemingly shy all of a sudden, looking anywhere but Joe. _Ah_ , _yes_ , Joe thought. Still a straight man, excited by the prospect of children, but awkward discussing it with another man. Funny how some things never changed.

“There’s nothing quite like it,” Joe said, keeping it brief, and gestured towards the door. “Shall we?”

“Please,” Nicky said, and then quietly opened and held the door for Joe to slip in. There were two seats fairly at the back that they could sit in without causing a fuss for anyone else.

The slight monotone of Dr Kozak’s voice immediately put Joe back in the trance-like state he’d left behind, still heavy from sleep. Would it be worse if he came to attend then slept through the entire thing? Probably.

He let his gaze roam over the room in search of Quynh and spotted her close to the front, sitting next to Andy. It shouldn’t surprise him – it didn’t, really – but it still sent a pang of… well, not annoyance exactly, but something close to it through him. He’d never doubted that they would get on. He knew Quynh long enough, and he knew Andy just about well enough to vouch for that.

But he couldn’t help but feel like Quynh saw Andy as a big fish she could catch for the pond that was her team, and knowing Andy, she was more likely the shark that tore it all apart. He cared about his job, and Quynh poaching Andy would be bad for multiple reasons, but most of all, he didn’t want to see her hurt.

Joe wrenched his gaze away to try and focus on Dr Kozak again, but within minutes, he could feel his eyelids drooping, and there he was, straddling the thin, thin line on the verge of sleep.

And he likely would have actually fallen asleep if it hadn’t been for Nicky speaking up all of a sudden.

“Excuse me,” he said into one of her pauses, “I missed the first part, so I just want to check I got this right – you are working on a product that will alter enzymes to improve collagen production tissue regeneration?”

A number of people in the audience turned around to look at Nicky – clearly no one had expected an interruption, least of all Kozak herself – and Joe quickly blinked away his tiredness. It wouldn’t do being in the line of vision if everyone saw him dozing away at this talk, even if no one else was taking in what Kozak was saying. Well, no one apart from Nicky, who had seemingly grasped what this whole thing was supposed to be about in minutes.

“That is an oversimplification, but broadly correct, yes,” Kozak said.

People turned back around, ready to move on, but Nicky narrowed his eyes at her. Joe was still looking at him, but that was excusable while Nicky was speaking.

“So what is this product supposed to accomplish?” he asked, “Eternal life? Eternal youth?”

Dr Kozak’s mouth curled at the sides like she’d just bitten into a perfectly-sized lemon tart, but it may also just have been her version of a polite smile. “Why not both? Merrick Industries prides itself on being a market leader in the pharmaceutical space, and I’m sure Mr Merrick himself will attest to the fact that this did not happen without fearless drive for innovation.”

Nicky leaned back in his chair, shoulder muscles shifting under his shirt. “Nature is the art of God,” he said, “but no one thinks of how much blood it costs.”

Joe was so tired. He could be excused for fantasising about what it would be like to nap on these shoulders for a second, even as he was aware that he was witnessing possibly the biggest showdown the _Partners Weekend_ had ever seen.

Dr Kozak stared at Nicky for a moment too long, the silence stretching into the uncomfortable. “I’m sorry?”

“My bad,” Nicky said, “it must not translate well.”

Dr Kozak resumed her lecture without further comment, and disappointingly, none-too-frazzled by this exchange. Joe would have been.

He quite certainly would’ve been even more frazzled if Nicky had followed the statement up with a small, private smile, but he realised belatedly that that was directed at _him_ , not Dr Kozak. Because he was still looking at Nicky in what he thought might be awe.

Had that guy seriously just criticised the ethical practices of Merrick Industries’ most eminent scientist by quoting _Dante Alighieri_ at her?

* * *

“Hey, Book.”

“Hey, what’s up, Nile?”

Given the gruff sound of his voice, Nile wasn’t sure if her call had interrupted Booker during a nap or during… some other activity, but he had picked up, so really, that was on him.

“Just wanted to run something by you,” she said, intent on keeping it brief regardless, “Are you and Sophie okay to sit with Copley?”

The seating plans were coming along _great_ , if Nile did say so herself. Pairing up couples for tables of four was no mean feat if you wanted no one to complain about the seating arrangement, because it didn’t allow for much middle ground. It meant either pairing people who you knew got along well, or people who had never spoken to each other once in their lifetime, but who you had a feeling might just get along. Well. There was _one_ option for middle ground, and she was exploring it right this instant.

“With James? Yeah, sure, no problem, but I thought we were with Andy?”

“Change of plan,” Nile told him, “you’ll see. Just wanted to make sure it was okay with you before I unleash hell.”

“Unleash hell, yeah?” Booker laughed through the phone, a tired chuckle. She’d definitely woken him up. “You’re going to be the death of all of us, kid.”

“I hope not,” she said, “Who’s going to explain the UEFA League table to me unprompted if not you and Joe?”

“This is precisely what I’m talking about.” Booker chuckled again. “I will see you at dinner, and hope for the best.”

That she did, too. With a sense of content accomplishment, Nile finished pasting the last names onto her table sheet and clicked print. There was potential for disaster here – but what Nile couldn’t resist was the potential for _greatness_.

* * *

“Oh, this is not good,” Andy whispered.

“Hm?”

Quynh had been distracted watching Joe struggle to stay awake, wondering if he was going to nod off and drool onto the shoulder of Andy’s partner. He’d done it before, on a train ride to Manchester during which Quynh had flat out pretended not to know him, and the poor guy next to Joe spent two hours being slept on. Joe had been mortified after, and refused to speak to Quynh for half an hour, which was the Joe equivalent of two weeks of the silent treatment.

“He’s quoted Dante,” Andy nodded into Nicky’s direction, “that’s not a good sign.”

“How come?”

Andy leaned back in her chair again and Quynh mirrored her, pretending to follow what Dr Kozak was saying. What she’d heard so far was not promising.

“Well, it basically means he thinks whatever Dr Kozak is presenting here is about as morally sound as murdering babies.”

She blew her fringe out of her eyes and Quynh and stole a glance at her face, the grey of Andy’s eyes somehow sharpened by the unnatural light in the room.

“I mean, from what I’ve understood, he’s not super far off,” she whispered, “You were right, this woman _is_ creepy.”

Andy sighed the defeatist sigh of those who are right but had hoped the wouldn’t be. “Maybe I shouldn’t have brought Nicky. Sometimes I think _anything_ Merrick Industries does sounds unethical.”

“But it’s not?” Quynh teased, and was rewarded with Andy’s gaze flicking towards her.

“Nah, there’s a government ethics commission they’ve got to get everything past before they can go to trial and then to market.”

Quynh couldn’t help the devious smile that was already on her face when she leaned over and whispered: “Interesting. And who on their board is getting their dick sucked by Merrick?”

* * *

Andy’s laugh rang through the conference room, startling Joe the last few degrees to wakefulness. It was an outburst, quickly stifled and hidden behind her hand, but Joe found his eyes narrowing in on her regardless.

Or not so much Andy, but more Quynh, who was leaning towards her, eyes flashing with the mirth of her own laughter. And that was- That was fine, really. Except for all the ways it really, really wasn’t.

Joe didn’t want to be annoyed. It was the most frustrating of all emotions, in his opinion, and being annoyed with his best friend was even worse. And at such terrible timing! He’d been annoyed with Quynh before, of course, they could fight like cats and dogs from time to time, but that was just it – there was no space for a fight here, no time or location appropriate, and more importantly, Joe didn’t _want_ to fight.

Quynh was his only true confidante at this weekend, the one who had promised she’d be in it with him no matter what happened. Joe was aware that maybe the thought counted more than Quynh’s actions here, and he didn’t want to hold it against her if it all got a bit much. He _was_ asking for a lot, he knew that. He had just hoped things might hold up longer than a day.

Joe was contemplative for the rest of Dr Kozak’s talk, not taking in a single word. Ever so often, he glanced at Nicky when the man would scoff low in his throat or subtly roll his eyes. Since they were sitting in the last row, there wasn’t really anyone else taking notice, and so a tiny part of Joe’s brain told him to smile whenever Nicky aired his frustration, like it was a private conversation the two of them were having.

Quynh caught up with him in the hallway outside as people poured out of the conference room and began making their way to the dining hall.

“Heya,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “Good nap?”

He nodded, trying to smile without looking pensive. “Can we have a quick word in there?”

Joe pulled her into an empty storage closet next to the bathrooms in the hallway.

Quynh laughed in his face. “Oh, come on, Joe, we’re doing a pretty good job, I don’t think we need to pretend to get it on in a broom cupboard of all place, to-“

“Quynh, please, you need to stop with Andy,” he cut her off, a pleading look on his face.

“I- what?” Quynh had an impressive poker face, but Joe could see the flash of guilt in her eyes.

“I know it’s tempting, and I know I’m asking a lot here as it is, but can you just- Can you just wait a little? Just so it’s not so obvious that you did it this weekend?”

There was a smidge of colour rising high on Quynh’s cheeks. “Joe, I don’t know where you’re getting the idea from that we- that I-“

“Quynh, please.” Joe pinched the bridge of his nose. “You tell her how great it is working for yourself, you ask her if she’s ever considered it, and I don’t need to know what you said in there that made her laugh, but I’m pretty sure it was something about Merrick Industries, or Merrick himself. Just. It’s pretty obvious you’re trying to tempt her to jump ship, after I _asked you not to_ , and you know how bad that will look for me when you’re inevitably successful.”

“No, Joe, listen.” Something complicated happened on Quynh’s face and she grabbed his forearm. “It’s not- that. Or at least, I think it may have looked that way, because we _were_ talking about our jobs, but I promise, it was just that. No,” she exhaled, “no ulterior motives on my part. Promise.”

She did look him straight in the eye for that and while there was an amount of guilt in there still, there was also no trace of a possible lie.

“Promise promise?” he asked, just to be sure.

“Promise promise,” she said, squeezing his arm.

“Okay.” He breathed a sigh, whether in relief or just to get rid of the tension between them, he didn’t know. “Dinner?”

Quynh nodded, but when he turned to leave, she held onto his arm for a moment longer, making him linger.

“Look, Joe, it’s just that-“ She laughed, an oddly self-conscious sound that he didn’t think he’d heard from her that way before. “We get along really well, and I think if I can, I’d like to, you know. Spend some more time with her this weekend? Is that okay?”

And that, there, right then, that was- That was asking something else entirely. But Quynh wasn’t usually like that. Maybe he’d misread.

Joe cleared his throat. “Of course! I wasn’t going to stop you from befriending my superiors as work, you know? Who knows, it might actually help me in the long term.”

Quynh let go of his arm and rolled her eyes. “Sure. Let’s get some dinner in you before you go on like that.”

* * *

To Andy’s surprise, Quynh’s strategy for sobering up had actually worked. There was a dull headache formed at the back of her skull somewhere, and parts of her brain still felt more spongey than they usually did, but at least she wasn’t on the verge of keeling over anymore. But all the champagne still needed to go somewhere, so when Dr Kozak was _finally_ done with her talk, she signalled Nicky to wait for her at the end of the hallway while she quickly snuck to the loos. She was sure that he was going to give her an earful on how terrible the talk had been, and what a dreadful company she worked for the second she stepped outside, and for once- Well. For once she was going to agree entirely. That really had been quite something.

When Andy left the toilet again, Nicky was leaning against the wall at the end of the hallway, gaze on his phone. There were low voices coming from somewhere, though, and Andy found herself stopping in front of a storage closet to listen in. She wasn’t usually an eavesdropper, but they sounded familiar. A little bit like-

“Quynh, please. You tell her how great it is working for yourself, you ask her if she’s ever considered it, and I don’t need to know what you said in there that made her laugh, but I’m pretty sure it was something about Merrick Industries, or Merrick himself. Just. It’s pretty obvious you’re trying to tempt her to jump ship.”

 _Oh._ Andy swallowed, already moving down the hallway again. _Of course_. And there she had been thinking that Quynh was likely, maybe- Andy couldn’t quite put it into words. Taking care of her, definitely, also showing some general interest in her. She had taught her croquet after all, and she didn’t think any of the times she’d made Quynh laugh she’d faked it. It had seemed genuine, at the time. Only of course, Quynh hadn’t meant it like _that_. She was married to Joe, and she was interested in Andy because she was an entrepreneur, and Andy only had to take one look at her LinkedIn to know how popular she was with founders.

A part of her was almost embarrassed. Had she really thought that a straight, married woman had been hitting on her? She didn’t usually feel bad for having a healthy ego, but that had to be a new low.

Andy dredged up another smile when she caught up with Nicky, telling herself it was going to be the last one for that day. “Ready for dinner?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” Nicky pushed off the wall, and almost like he knew she needed it, put his arm around her shoulders as they walked to the dining hall together.

There was a chart propped up on a small easel next to the door that they had to find their names on, next to a very pretty looking Nile in a tight black dress. She beamed at Andy and Nicky when they showed up, and Andy was almost tempted to break her last smile for the day rule immediately. The temptation didn’t last particularly long, however, because whose names should be next to her and Nicky’s on the table plan?

This couldn’t be a coincidence. Andy cast a quick look around the room to see if this could be a mistake in any way, but there was nothing she could pin this feeling on, precisely. It was just one of those moments fate decided to lob you over the head with a bat only to see how you continued to play.

The table Nicky and her had been assigned was close to the wall, in a corner that was slightly darker than the rest of the room, not as well-lit by the large chandeliers, and of course, _of course_ , they were sharing with-

“So we meet again!” Joe said cheerily, as him and Quynh sat across from her and Nicky. About fifteen minutes earlier, Andy might have been delighted to spend a three course meal looking at Quynh’s face. Well, she still was. Only it seemed impossible to do so without an embarrassed flush creeping onto her cheeks.

She wasn’t entirely sure if she’d responded to Joe’s cheerful greeting, maybe she’d just looked at him, but whatever it had been, he did look almost scared as a result. Also not a great start.

Merrick said a few words again from a table in the middle of the room he was sharing with Keane and his potentially-rented-girlfriend and then waiters swanned into the room to serve them their starters.

Andy sighed. At least the service wasn’t going to drag this evening into oblivion.

“Oh, crab salad with pear and pine nuts,” Quynh said. Her foot was resting so close to Andy’s she could feel the heat radiating through her boots. “I love both, never had them together.”

She shot a grin at Andy before taking her first bite, and Andy realised it was going to be hard to find places to look at, unless she decided to start a gaze-based love affair with her wine glass. So she took a sip, but the champagne from earlier told her that this was not going to be a sustainable option. _Damn._

“Yes, this is very good,” she agreed after the first couple of bites. “It doesn’t have anything on a dinner party at Nicky’s though.”

Sometimes, this worked. She only had to bring up Nicky’s name, or one of his favourite things, and he’d effortlessly continue the conversation from there. It figured that this time this wouldn’t be the case. Quynh had just started to smile at her again and paired with her foot being where it was, Andy found she couldn’t really be bothered to nudge Nicky.

“Or his sister’s, he doesn’t like to hear it, but she is actually the better cook.”

This, if anything, _should_ have gotten a rise out of Nicky. He’d never concede to Mia being the better cook out of the two, particularly because it was blatantly untrue. Why was he not taking over?

“Speaking of which,” Andy nudged her knee into Nicky’s. Only she’d miscalculated the movement, and suddenly it was her resting her foot right against Quynh’s. Was it still leading someone on if the person decided to surrender themselves to it so easily? Or was it just plain stupid on her part? These were all thoughts Andy didn’t know the answer to. “How is Mia doing?”

* * *

Nicky demonstrated a masterclass in how to not drop a forkful of crabs back onto his plate when Andy crashed her knee into his.

“Hm?” he asked, barely a question, more a noise.

He’d been lost in thought. It had started off with Joe’s shocked expression, when he’d absentmindedly scratched his beard, and Nicky had been staring, _fine_ , how was he supposed not to? But then he’d gotten distracted thinking about Mia again, and worrying that something was wrong with the baby. Why else would it be taking so long after her water had broken? Not that Nicky knew anything about babies – and potentially even less about female anatomy – but it didn’t seem to match up with anything he’d heard about childbirth, and he was just hoping his sister and his future niece were safe.

“ _Stai bene_?” Andy asked. She sounded terse, if the switch to Italian hadn’t been a dead give-away. For Joe and Quynh’s benefit, she added, “Nicky’s sister is about to give birth.”

“How exciting!” Quynh said, “Is it the first time you’re going to be an uncle?”

Nicky saw Joe’s grin at the fact that his wife’s first question had been the exact same he had asked when Nicky had told him earlier, and something inside him ached. There wasn’t even all that much to it. It just seemed like Joe and Quynh knew each other so well, it was hard to imagine anyone ever knowing him that well. He doubted that even Andy, who had virtually known him all his life, would have a reaction like that over something so simple.

“Yes, it’s very exciting for everyone,” Nicky told Quynh, “first baby of the next generation in my family. Mia is doing okay, her water broke earlier today but she’s not properly gone into labour yet, so they’ve given her something to induce it, I think. Bit of a waiting game at the moment.”

He speared some crabs on his fork and smiled at Quynh before eating them.

“Have they decided on a name yet?” Joe asked. He was looking at Nicky with something akin to surprise, although Nicky wasn’t sure why.

“They have, but they’re not telling me.” He smiled ruefully.

“Probably with good reason,” Andy snorted, “You’d crumble under your _nonna’s_ probing questions within seconds and then your whole town would know.”

“Hey, you don’t have Italian grandparents, you don’t get to judge what it’s like!” His fingers itched to tousle Andy’s hair in retaliation, but he remembered the awkward moment when Nile had found them earlier and refrained.

“Ah, they can’t be worse than Vietnamese grandparents,” Quynh said, “You don’t want to know how many times I’ve ambushed at family dinners, at least two grandparents at a time admonishing me to get married. Sometimes I think they’ll never- I mean, by their standards, you have to see, I was much, much more than an old maid when Joe popped the question!”

She laughed, but drowned it in her glass of wine until Joe took her hand that was resting on the table between them.

“I think it’s fair to say both our grandparents were overjoyed when we got married, they’d both given up hope completely.”

He began to tell the story of how Quynh and him had broken their engagement to their families, but Nicky was only half-listening. There was something mesmerising in the way Joe was smiling at his wife, the easy affection and honest adoration written into every laughter line around his eyes when he did. It was probably not healthy for Nicky to hone in on these things, but the part of him that was, still, an incurable romantic, couldn’t help but be charmed by all of these things.

“ _I know he’s a really good looking guy_ ,” Andy dropped her voice, switched to Italian, “ _but do you realise that you’re staring?_ ”

Of course Nicky realised. He would stop if he could. Instead, he shot Andy a rueful grin and handed his finished plate to the waiter who had showed up at their table in exchange for the main course.

There were many things that could be said for English cuisine, although too many of them were impolite, and Nicky didn’t like to repeat them to strangers. The main course served to them seemed to be a deconstructed version of bangers and mash – as much as either of those things could be deconstructed – and as Nicky had anticipated, it tasted more like regret than like actual food. Was anyone on this island ever going to bother learning how to season a meal?

“ _Potresti passarmi il sale, per favore?_ ” he asked Andy, mentally stuck on Italian since she’d just used it to call him out. But before she had the chance, Joe reached for the salt shaker and offered it to Nicky with a grin that might best be described as disarming.

“Oh, thank you,” Nicky said, switching back to English. His fingers brushed against Joe’s when he grabbed the salt, impossibly warm, the perfect mix of callous and softness, and there was only so much Nicky could do not to drop the entire shaker into his mash. 

Some people just had all the talents. If Joe was a designer at Merrick Industries, he was clearly a creative person, but that didn’t necessarily mean he had an ear for languages as well.

And if he understood Italian- Nicky set the salt down with shaky fingers. _Just how much of their conversation had he followed?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _More_ misunderstandings? In this fic?? It's more likely than you think.
> 
> Also I feel obliged to say, while espresso and pears isn't a bad idea when you need to sober up, nothing beats sleep and water and time in this department. (Just in case you feel compelled to make life choices based on fic you read any time soon, because I've been there and it doesn't always go as planned.)
> 
> If you speak Italian and are appalled by the way I've used it here, please let me know! It's been a while since I had lessons ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some people are in need of a (cold) shower, and Booker is trying to get everyone else drunk and _meddle_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're entering the pine forest! (Also yes, I'm putting the rating up _just_ to be on the safe side. It's nothing seriously explicit yet - for anyone worried that some relationships were taking a huge step out of the blue - but feel free to message me or leave a comment if you want to check before reading.) It's all gonna come together soon!

It was getting late in the bar at Hampton Manor. After dinner, Booker had come over to their table and cajoled them with him, but Andy had excused herself saying she was already halfway to hungover, and Nicky had gone with her. So in the end, it was Booker and his wife, Joe and Nile who Quynh spent the evening with, and she was beginning to see why Joe had not quit this job yet. It wasn’t easy to find workplace friendships that went beyond superficial pleasantries (or a shared hatred of your employer) and once you had them, it was a fickle thing to mess up by handing in your notice.

But when the music in the bar changed from an upbeat pop song to the slow, mellow music she associated with sitting in an Uber on the way home at 3am in the morning, Quynh felt all energy drain away from her at once. It was laughable to think of herself as introvert, given how much she enjoyed spending time with and getting to know new people, and yet. Everyone had their limits.

“I think I’m going to head to bed,” she said to Joe, and squeezed his hand. He was laughing at a French joke Booker had just told, or maybe at Sophie trying to explain it to Nile.

“Do you need me to come with?” he asked.

Quynh cast one glance between him and Booker and knew instinctively that if no one interfered with their plans, they’d probably stay up until the early hours of the morning, and it was not going to be her.

“You have fun.” She winked at him and slunk away, feet getting heavier with every step on the stairs up to their room.

She wasn’t an introvert, exactly. But there she was, experiencing the sinking feeling of exhaustion as images and snippets of conversations she’d had that day came back to her unbidden.

“You don’t want to know how many times I’ve ambushed at family dinners, at least two grandparents at a time admonishing me to get married. Sometimes I think they’ll never-“ _stop_ , she just about hadn’t said.

“No, you need to hold it steadier, like this-“ _or however you would hold a lover. I imagine it’s like this. It’s how I’d like to be held. Is this how you hold him?_

She cringed, hard, as she closed the door behind her and pushed her fingers into her hair.

“Here, drink first, then eat the pear. You’re not gonna be sober, but it’ll get you through-“ _whatever this weekend holds in store next. And I’ll get to look at you and your arms a little while longer._

All the things she shouldn’t even have thought, but had been on the tip of her tongue regardless.

“Look, Joe, it’s just that-“ _I’m madly attracted to this woman, and that was before it turned out she has a dry sense of humour, swears like a sailor and is smart as a whip._

Part of her tried to picture herself at a dinner party with Joe in a couple of months’ time. How she’d be drinking wine while Joe said: “Has Quynh told you the story of how we pretended to be husband and wife for my colleagues and she went ahead and nearly ruined it by coming on to one of my married superiors?” And she’d snort into her wine and box Joe’s arm and roll her eyes before launching into a story of how it had all been Joe’s fault in the first place, but the crucial part would be that they’d be able to laugh about the whole thing at that point. At the moment, she wasn’t even able to tell Joe, too much guilt swirling around inside her guts.

Quynh tried to shake herself out of these thoughts by grabbing her toiletries from her bag and getting into the shower in their en-suite bathroom. The décor there was held entirely in creamy porcelain and dark wood, with warm strips of light around the shower and other furniture bathing the room in a dusky glow. It would be a nightmare to do her make-up in here the next morning, but those were thoughts for another day.

Like in most English country houses, the shower took a while to produce a steady stream of hot water, but once it did, Quynh let her head drop forward and sighed happily as it massaged her shoulders.

This weekend could have been so perfect. If only- Well. If only a lot of things. If only standing naked under a perfectly hot stream of water had ever cleared anyone’s thoughts.

Her body was a sudden live wire, the adrenaline from all the near momentary slips and whatever longing she’d built up crashing over her. She’d gone into the shower to _wash_ , but she knew that that wasn’t what she was going to do if she started touching her body now. She was in this shower alone, but all the tiny fantasies she’d had that day were with her. Her breathing was quickening, and she exhaled by blowing onto the inside of her wrists to calm herself, to push them away.

People often took one look at Quynh, and the life she led these days, and told her that she didn’t know what it was like not to get what she wanted. But the truth was, there were too many things she’d sacrificed, too many things she’d gone without over and over again not to keenly remember, what it was _like_. To want, and to crave, and to work for something you weren’t entirely sure you could have. Whether you even deserved it. 

Quynh had never met a woman and been absolutely, 100% certain that whatever advances she was making were welcomed, were reciprocated, unless the person explicitly told her so. The line between the casual intimacy of friends and the adoring caress of a lover was all too often blurred. But Andy was, if not married, then at least in a relationship. _This shouldn’t even be a question_.

She squeezed some shampoo onto her hand and began to lather it into her hair, her fingers steady against her scalp. Quynh hadn’t realised how keyed up she was until she closed her eyes, and pictured, just for a moment, that the touch wasn’t hers. She moaned before she could help herself.

She’d seen no, she _studied_ , Andy’s hands from the moment she’d pressed her finger on the receptionist’s desk. They looked slender, but strong, and Quynh would be willing to bet good money that she could give the kind of toe-curling head massage that made you wonder if you should relax under her fingers, or if the tension would lead anywhere. Maybe if Andy was standing in the shower behind her, she’d wash her hair, and then slip her hands down to her shoulders, work her muscles there before replacing her hands with her teeth. Quynh’s own hands had slipped from her hair, and she was cupping her breast. Just imagining what it would feel like to have Andy’s lean body, her curves pressed against her back- She gasped, and in a last moment of self-restraint (although was that still the word?) pulled on the cold water tap. The shower temperature dropped, the water gushing over her like an ice bucket, and Quynh nearly screamed. But it was _just_ what she had needed to get a handle on her thoughts.

When she was somewhat confident that she could operate without touching herself at the first possible opportunity, she finished her shower, towelled off, and slipped under the covers of the bed, both fists pressed into her eyes.

What was it her mum used to say? Sleep fixes everything? Well, she had better be right on this occasion, Quynh thought miserably. She fished around on the nightstand for the weekend itinerary she’d seen earlier. On the programme for the next day were a ladies’ spa day, some launch thing with Merrick and- of course, a chamber dance.

Yeah, _sleep_. She was going to need it.

* * *

Quynh had no sooner left their table, that Nile could easily track Sophie’s clever eyes following her retreating form to Joe’s face, then back to Quynh, then to meet Nile’s eyes. Then she raised an eyebrow with so much effortless French poise that Nile nearly burst into giggles right there and then, but she managed to contain herself until Sophie pinned Joe under her mischievous smirk.

“So Joe,” she said, “how lovely to finally meet your _wife_.”

Joe looked at Booker, who only raised his palms to show his innocence, then slumped over on the table to hide his face in his arms to Nile and Sophie’s laughter. “That obvious, huh?”

 _She knew it_. “Probably not to the casual observer,” Sophie said, “you’re playing ‘the couple’ remarkably well.”

“Or at least better than some people,” Booker mumbled, but it was so low and half into his glass, that Nile was pretty sure only she heard it. Pretty sure she was the only one meant to hear it, given how Booker’s eyes flitted to hers.

“So is she an actress? Or a model?” Sophie asked.

Joe’s head popped up from his arms again. “She was both, for some time, she’s kinda tried her hand at a bit of everything.” Then the meaning of Sophie’s words seemed to catch up with him. “Hey! I can forgive you for assuming I wasn’t straight, but this? Quynh is my best friend!”

“Excuse me?” Booker set his drink down, affront written all over his face. He could be such a shit sometimes.

Sophie was still giggling, too, and Nile was very, very certain that theirs was a match made in one of the more incendiary circles of hell.

Joe rolled his eyes and cast a quick look around the room, presumably to check they were out of ear shot of any other employees. “Don’t get ahead of yourself, Book. Let’s see how you like it when I ask _you_ to pretend to be my spouse next time.”

Nile would pay good, good money to see _that_. It would be a dumpster fire of such epic proportions, it would make everything Joe and Quynh were doing look like an acting masterclass. Which it was, really, if she thought about it for a little while longer.

“ _Please_ ,” Sophie said, still giggling, “Does that mean I get to sit the next one of these out?”

Joe sighed. “If only. Not that I’d have anyone else to bring, but I’m pretty sure showing up to this kind of thing with another man would be any better than coming alone.”

“I’m sorry, Joe,” Sophie’s smile turned sympathetic, and Nile reached out to pet his arm. “Also for laughing earlier. I promise I would have kept it together if _someone_ had thought to give me a heads’ up.”

“Oh, I can see how it is.” Booker gripped his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “First I get told I’m a subpar friend and now we’ve reached the point of the evening when my wife will list all my failings as a human being.”

Sophie smiled. “Maybe?”

Booker rolled his eyes and kissed her eyebrow as he got up. “In that case, I’m getting more drinks.”

They all smiled at him as he went, but Joe still looked oddly deflated, like some of the exuberance, the joy in his grin he so readily flashed at people, had been drained. Nile cast her eyes around the room, looking at the throngs of people drinking, as couples or with friends, and wondered not for the first time how much of the things these people showed each other on a day to day basis.

“You can’t be the only one in this position, though,” she said out loud.

“What’s that?” Joe asked.

“Well, isn’t a minimum of ten percent of the world population somewhere on the LGBT spectrum? If Merrick invited one hundred people to this thing, shouldn’t there be a good chance there are nine other people here who are in the same boat as you?”

Joe looked like his eyes were on the verge of popping out of his face. “Nile, you can’t be serious. You can’t honestly suggest there are more people here just _pretending_ to be straight?”

“You’re doing it though.”

Joe sighed again. “Yeah, but that’s because in places like this, the closet is deep, the heteronormativity strong and the patriarchy yet to be dismantled.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Sophie said, and raised her glass to clink it against Joe and Nile’s, just as Booker came back to place a new one in front of them.

“You will not believe this, Joe,” he said as he sat down, “but I’ve found someone who has the exact same shit opinions as you about football.”

“Who?” Nile asked.

“Ohh no. I love you dearly, Sebastien, but I am not staying for another round of football chat today.” Sophie got up just as Nicky stepped up to their table, beer in hand. _Oh_ , Nile thought, and allowed herself to exchange the tiniest, tiniest smile with Booker. _Well then._ “Come on, Nile, let’s go make the most of the evening while it’s still warm and sit outside.”

She didn’t need to be told twice. But if Booker thought he wasn’t going to give her details later, he had another think coming.

* * *

Nicky had followed Andy to their room after dinner, because he hadn’t quite known what to do with himself without her, but almost predictably, he hadn’t been able to go to sleep when she did. In his mind, there was a steady stream of worries about Mia, which led him to check his phone, which led him to check on his flight, which led him to calculate how many more hours he had to spend in this manor, which led him to wonder whether he was having a good time here or not, and thinking that he might actually would be, if it wasn’t-

Andy knocked a pillow into his face. “Ugh Nicky, how is anyone supposed to sleep with you tossing and turning next to them? It’s like being tuned into Anxiety FM. Can’t you deal with this like a normal person and chill outside for a bit, or at least get drunk?”

He rolled his eyes at her – which she didn’t see, in the dark, but he knew that she knew he did – and peeled himself back out of bed. Much as Andy could be a grouch, a lot of times her suggestions were pretty spot on, so he grabbed his phone, got dressed, and decided to wander the manor. Mia had stopped texting him a few hours ago, which could mean a number of things. She was right, he shouldn’t panic, but it was sort of hard not to worry about your baby sister, so he decided to check in with Paolo.

_All good over there? How is Mia holding up?_

_Better than I am,_ came the almost instantaneous response, _she’s sleeping now._

 _How??_ Nicky replied, before following it with, _Actually, don’t answer that. The woman napped during her own graduation ceremony._

_Let’s hope she doesn’t sleep through the birth of our child._

Nicky smiled at his phone. If anyone was going to manage, it would be Mia. _Fingers crossed,_ he sent, _hope you get some rest as well._

The manor was quiet, almost eery in its calm, and before long, Nicky found himself following the only source of light and laughter he could find – and was led straight to the bar.

It was a nice place, darkly panelled in the way a lot of English pubs were but with a few more modern touches. The tables were sparsely populated, although Nicky could see a few more people making use of the terrace still, and he decided he might as well have a beer. It was free, and Booker was standing at the bar, and despite the man’s ostensible Frenchness, Nicky found he had actually enjoyed his and his wife’s company playing croquet earlier that day.

When Nicky stepped to the bar, he was swearing at something on his phone.

“Bad news?” Nicky asked by way of greeting.

“Nicolò, hi!” Booker replied, “And no, not yet, anyway. Just football.”

“Ah,” Nicky said, and signalled the barkeeper for a pint of lager. “Who’s playing?”

“PSG,” Booker said, “don’t want to say they’re getting trashed by Arsenal, but I might as well.”

“And. That’s a bad thing?” Nicky asked. He was half certain that that kind of attitude might make him end up with some beer in the face, but it was a calculated risk – Booker seemed like the kind of person who wouldn’t waste a drop of beer, not even over a football club.

“I should have known,” Booker just said, rolling his eyes, “come with me.”

Nicky waited for the barkeeper to draw his lager, then turned to follow Booker… And found him kicking out a chair for him while badmouthing his football opinions to Joe. Who, it appeared, was going to be the only other person at the table.

Nicky took a sip of lager and briefly considered if he still had an option to turn around. He was not a great statistician, but he was decent enough to know a trend when he saw one. And it really didn’t take a genius to see that every single interaction he’d had with the man, his mental capacity to uphold a conversation without an indecent amount of staring had been quite rapidly declining. So the way he saw it, there was good chance that he’d sit down at this table and lose his goddamn mind.

But on the other hand. He couldn’t very well _leave_ now, so he sat down and said: “I don’t have shit opinions on football, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that PSG is terrible.”

Joe laughed at that, wide and open. “And you know what, Booker? The man is correct.”

Nicky smiled at him over the table trying not to look too much like a deer caught in headlights. He wasn’t usually someone who made people laugh, people tended to take him to parties because they needed him to subtly creep people out or because they knew he’d have an interesting conversation with someone. (He was pretty sure he knew which of the two had been Andy’s thought process, even though she would deny it.)

“At least I don’t support some soulless club like Arsenal.” Booker rolled his eyes at Joe.

“Do you?” Nicky asked.

“No.” Joe was smiling at him now, which felt like the moment at person you’d been looking forward to seeing opened their arms hug you. It was warm and comfortable, letting Nicky in on a joke. “I went to one game, on a date forever and a day ago, but Booker refuses to let me live it down.”

“Just in case you need a reminder to date better people, Joe,” Booker said, to Nicky’s confusion.

“Quynh is an Arsenal fan?” he asked. It seemed… unlikely.

“No,” Joe said, still laughing but looking a little embarrassed. “We haven’t been married long, but it’s still quite rude of Booker to conveniently forget I’m off the market sometimes.”

“Hmm, very rude of me,” Booker mumbled into his glass, a gleeful glint in his eye. “But I think my wedding present to the two of you sort of makes up for it.”

“Yeah,” Joe said, “that… that it does.”

An awkward silence was on the verge of settling over the conversation. Nicky didn’t mind awkward silences so much, usually, but without a conversation to concentrate on, he knew he’d just end up staring at Joe again. Perhaps at the little point of skin between his mouth and his beard. And then who knew when he’d resurface, without Andy to kick him under the table.

“What did he get you?” he asked. Best to keep a conversation going. A conversation about the man’s _marriage_.

“Yeah, Joe, remind me, what did I get you?”

Nicky couldn’t read Booker’s smile, but from Joe’s face he felt like he’d said something wrong. He hoped it wasn’t something inappropriate. He wasn’t sure he was going to survive if it was something inappropriate. (Straight sex could be scary.)

“Another thing you keep forgetting,” Joe said, leaning back in his chair, “are we getting old, Book?”

Booker shrugged, seemingly unbothered. “Are we trying to change the topic?”

Joe sighed. “It was an archery class for both of us, because you knew Quynh would be a natural, and hoped I might accidentally shoot myself in the foot.”

“Well, I didn’t _know_ , but everything you said about hope is correct.”

They were both grinning again and Nicky quickly drank some of his lager. He knew from experience that he was what a lot of people referred to as “straight-passing” but the risk of a conversation with straight men going somewhere he wasn’t able or remotely willing to follow was still quite substantial.

But he needn’t have worried. Or maybe he should have. “So Nicky, tell us, how long have you been with Andy?”

Here was the problem: When Andy had asked him to pretend to be her boyfriend for this weekend, they probably should have talked about a few more specifics than that. For example, whether he was her boyfriend or if there was a different term they used. (In all of the time he’d known Andy, she’d _never_ called anyone her boyfriend. It appeared to be a term that didn’t agree with her.) Most importantly though, they should have probably been prepared for questions like: How did you fall in love? When did you begin dating? Do you live together?

Because Nicky was a great many things. But he was a terrible liar.

“I’ve known Andy all my life, really,” he said, clearing his throat, “But we’ve not been together long?”

That shouldn’t have come out sounding like a question, but there was nothing he could do about that now.

“That must have been quite the change,” Joe said, “Going from being friends for so long to being in a relationship. I mean, Quynh and I were friends for a long time before we started dating, but it still seems very hard to imagine knowing someone all your life and then realising they were what you were missing all along. Quite poetic, really.”

“Yeah.” The sincerity in his voice was killing Nicky. Or maybe it was his open gaze like molten chocolate on Nicky’s conscience. For someone who was a terrible liar, he sure was lying to a lot of people all at once in that moment: Booker, and Joe about his relationship. Andy, about how he felt about this weekend. And he was about to include himself in that as well.

Booker rapped the table with his knuckles. “I’m going to get another drink. Do you guys want anything?” Nicky wasn’t even half-way through his pint, and shook his head. The alcohol here was free, and some people were always better at taking advantage of that. “Back in a tick.”

“So,” Joe said. He was smiling at Nicky again, but it was less open, more tentative, and Nicky didn’t know why it felt like he had taken a spoon to carve away at his insides.

“So,” he replied. In another world, he might have thought that what they were doing was flirting. An easy mistake to make when you were so attracted to someone every emotion they showed felt personal to you, somehow. And Joe showed a lot of emotion. But in this world, he knew it was just him, and Joe, in all likelihood, would probably be horrified to know what he was thinking.

Silence had settled again, and they were looking into each other’s eyes, which was _bad_ , it had already been bad after croquet earlier, or at _dinner_ , and before Nicky could stop himself, he blurted: “You speak Italian?”

He actually couldn’t breathe after. Out of all the questions. He _had_ to ask the one that would possibly make his humiliation complete.

“Oh, because I passed you the salt earlier?” Joe asked, and the smile was back, thank God. “Yeah, I know a couple of words, mainly the basics, _ciao_ , _grazie_ , _piacere_ , that sort of thing. Always came quite easily to me, probably just a by-product of growing up multilingual.”

Hearing him speak Italian, even if just a few words, did not help Nicky, not at all, but it smoothed the edges of his worry that had begun to set in. Andy had spoken quite fast, had she not? There was little chance that he’d understood… everything.

He tried to breathe. It wasn’t working as well as he’d hoped.

Before he had a chance to say any other embarrassing things or start staring again, he slid his phone out of his pocket and checked to see if there was an update from Mia. There wasn’t.

“How is your sister doing?” Joe asked, nodding towards his phone.

Nicky smiled. These were… somewhat safe territories. This he could do. “She’s fine. I think. She’s been asleep for a couple of hours, so whenever it happens, I hope she’ll be at least well-rested.”

Joe laughed, and Nicky couldn’t believe he’d been the direct cause of that sound for the second time. It was a strange pride, and he was loathe to let go of it.

“Don’t worry about it,” Joe told him, “Turns out women are pretty good at just knowing what’s best for them in that situation. My sister was on the verge of having me physically removed from her side, and in hindsight, I can see why.” They shared another smile.

“How long have you been an uncle?” Nicky asked.

“Around four years,” Joe said. “Do you want to see some pictures?”

Nicky nodded, glad to have found a topic that they could talk about without awkwardness or pauses. And if it was an excuse to look at pictures of Joe swinging around a toddler on his phone, well, he wasn’t to know that Nicky maybe only spent half the time actually looking at the toddler. Because there was that grin again, wide and unabashed, and Nicky found his heart so full for Joe’s nephew all of a sudden. He was growing up so loved. It took him a while to realise they’d been talking about their families without interruption for at least fifteen minutes.

“Do you think Booker is coming back?” he asked Joe.

Joe craned his neck to look over his shoulder at the bar. “I think he may have gone to join his wife outside instead.”

Then he gestured at Nicky’s nearly empty glass. “Another?”

It was not going to get easier saying ‘no’ to that smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I may, I'd like a quick show of hands, please: As hinted, the next chapters are going to be some "gender-specific weekend activities" (ugh). I can either do a mix of alternating POVs again, or I can do one chapter Joe/Nicky and one chapter Andy/Quynh - let me know what you'd prefer, and if the latter option, which you'd like to go first ;)
> 
> Thank you everyone for reading and your many lovely comments - I'll try and get to them tomorrow!!!! <3
> 
> P.S.: Yes, you were supposed to find out what Nicky does for a living! But the banter got away from me, and now it shall be revealed in the next instalment.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some people are getting a spa day and have a hard time relaxing anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Andromaquynh retreat it is! (Don't worry, chapter eight will be all about the boys, but there are some... teasers in this one.)
> 
> Also I don't think I have introduced you to the unofficial soundtrack for this fic, or at least the song that both describes what's going through every character's mind at all times, and what went through mine when I saw [anarchisms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anarchisms/gifts)' post: [Weak by AJR](https://youtu.be/txCCYBMKdB0?t=41) xD

“No. Fucking. Way.” Nile was aware that she’d said that a bit too loud, that the fit of giggles she burst into when Booker only raised his eyebrows at her was a tad too exuberant for the environment they were in. “I mean, I had my _suspicions_ , but Book, this is too good to be true.”

“Bet that’s what they’re thinking as well.” Booker nodded towards the glass door through which they could still look into the bar at Hampton Manor. “Not that they’re doing much to find out if it _is_.”

Nile chanced a glance at their old table, where Nicky had scooted his chair around to look at Joe’s phone. Their faces were literally glowing. It would have been disgustingly sweet if it wasn’t for the fact that they didn’t have a clue what they looked like. _That_ made it hilarious.

“What about Andy and Quynh?”

“Oh, _please_ ,” Sophie said, “I’m not sure what everyone else was seeing while we were playing croquet earlier, but at home I’m pretty sure we’d call what they were doing something like _frottage_.”

Nile was startled into a fit of giggles again. Oh, this was _perfect_. This was everything she’d wanted.

“The question is,” Sophie continued, looking at her husband, “do we do anything about it? Or do we watch them suffer?”

“I mean. We have to do something,” Nile said. “We can’t just keep them in the dark like this.”

“Oh, _mon chou_ , let me tell you this as a parent of three: Sometimes it is way more fun for you the longer you leave them in the dark about something.”

Booker chuckled at Sophie’s words, but Nile was not about that. “I mean what psychological warfare you wage on your children is on you,” Nile said, “but these are our friends. Well, colleagues. But mainly friends in this context. And what do we have to lose?”

Booker sighed. “You? Your innocence, clearly.”

“Hey!”

“Okay, okay, I’ll take it back. But as unbearable as the pining is at the moment, don’t you think it’s better if they figure stuff out for themselves?”

Nile leaned over to take another look at Nicky, who was currently watching Joe go back to the bar. _Yeah_.

“Sure. Only at the pace that’s going they’ll be on the M25 back into London before it’ll click.”

“That is unfortunately entirely fair,” Sophie sighed. “But I suggest this: If you’re going to do anything, can you at least get creative about it?”

* * *

Andy woke up to the sun streaming into her eyes and an empty bed. The ideal Saturday – maybe _minus_ the headache - if it had been in her own bed. She’d slept the deep sleep of the intoxicated, and was disoriented for a moment before remembering where she was. And why. And what happened the day before. All the reasons to go straight back to sleep, really.

She took another moment to press her pillow onto her face and groan into it, before catapulting herself into a seated position. Which hurt. Nicky was nowhere to be seen, nor a note from him. His side of the bed appeared unslept in.

Had she kicked him out the night before? She knew she could be a grouch, but she wouldn’t have done something _that_ drastic.

A look at her phone revealed that it was some time past 10am. Wasn’t Nicky supposed to be on that hunting trip? They had probably left early. Andy stretched out her neck and padded to the bathroom to get a glass of water. Wasn’t _she_ supposed to be somewhere as well?

A knock on the door pulled her from her thoughts.

“Andy? You awake?” It was Nile, wrapped in a fuzzy bathrobe and holding a glass of juice. 

“Morning,” Andy said. “You’re here to pick me up, right?”

“Yep,” Nile said, and held out the juice for her. “You’re late for the spa day, and you _really_ don’t want to miss the massages. Now put on your robe and come with.” 

Hampton Manor did not look like it should fit some spa facilities alongside all its rooms, and yet Andy continue to be impressed by the space Merrick had found for massage and treatment rooms, saunas, and whirlpools next to a gym. She was sure he’d mentioned to her at some point that this was his second home, or country residence or something. But who lived like this?

Andy didn’t have a lot of time for an existential crisis or any more profound thoughts about whether this meant she was _still_ underpaid though. Nile pushed open to the treatment area and there it was, the most beautiful thing Andy had ever laid eyes on: An espresso machine the size of an entire kitchen cupboard.

“So tell me, Nile,” she said as she could feel the caffeine waking up some of her brain functions again, “what’s the plan for this?”

Nile laughed. “It’s a spa day, not relaxing on schedule. But if you want a massage or a facial or something you should put your name down for a time slot over there.” She pointed to a board next to a door that Andy assumed led to the treatment rooms.

“Cheers, kid.”

Andy had slept well, but a massage was just what she needed. She put her name down for the earliest possible slot and looked at the options available to her. With nearly an hour to kill before the massage, it probably wouldn’t be wise to start with a sauna session, and she also didn’t have time for a facial. Which left the whirlpools, where she could soak for a while and hope the rest of the alcohol would leave her system, as well as- Ah.

Andy was a firm believer in sleep being the answer to everything, but seeing Quynh again in the morning light was every bit as delightful and every bit as agonising as it had been the day before. She’d somewhat successfully suppressed thoughts of the words from Joe she’d overhead the day before, licked her own wounds the evening before by telling herself she didn’t even have a reason to feel butthurt about anything, but apparently, these things didn’t last.

Quynh had been wearing light make-up the day before, but she was every bit as radiant sitting in a whirlpool with strands of her dark, wet hair plastered to her face, a slight flush from the heat high on her cheeks. Andy never stood a chance.

In the whirlpool with Quynh was Dr Kozak who seemed to be very enthusiastically talking about something that Andy could only imagine being research-related, given the somewhat distanced look in Quynh’s eyes. There was a chance Quynh was also just hungover, but when Quynh’s gaze swept past her, for a moment Andy could have sworn her eyes widened in the universal female expression for _Help Me_.

And Andy should have ignored it, probably, should have found a different whirlpool to join, but Quynh had been right the day before: There was such a thing as female solidarity. Particularly since creepy people, were, apparently, everywhere. Even in very nice pools.

“Oh hello, Andy,” Dr Kozak said when Andy stepped up to their whirlpool, “are you going to join us? I was just telling Quynh here about some of the work we’ve been doing on Klotho hormone extraction. Such a shame I didn’t get to it yesterday, but I think me and my lab are really quite close to a breakthrough, so you can look forward to signing off some more human trials first.”

“Can’t wait,” Andy said, her tone flat enough that it could be mistaken for dry humour instead of heavy sarcasm, and shrugged out of her robe to step into the whirlpool with them. She was wearing a black bikini that she’d found somewhere at the bottom of her closet when she’d been hurriedly packing for this weekend, and in hindsight, it may have been a little… scant on fabric. Not that it didn’t cover all the most important bits, and not that anyone was going to dare give her shit for it here anyway. They were under women, so she wasn’t entirely sure why Quynh was so determinedly staring at the whirlpool jet opposite her until Andy had sunk into the water.

“Not that your partner seemed to be too taken with the concept,” Dr Kozak said, followed by affected laughter that grated on Andy’s already tender nerves. “Or is he your husband? The Italian guy?”

“Uhh, no,” Andy said, “we’re not married.”

“I thought so,” Dr Kozak continued. Why did her face suddenly look like that of a satisfied cat? “I know what it can be like, if you don’t mind me saying, going out with a younger guy. At some point it stops being ‘the heart wants what it wants’, when you learn to think with… your body. That is why I leave Steven to his ideas and his ideals, while I tend to mine.”

“You’re going out with Mr Merrick?” Quynh asked politely, her tone betraying her only in so far as that it was impossible to be _that_ neutral.

Andy knew she’d been hungover, but now she thought she might have to throw up.

“Oh, yes,” Dr Kozak answered, and had the audacity to _wink_ at Andy. “But when you’re our age-“ Andy saw no reason to be grouped together with this woman in any way. “a man who’s in what? His early thirties?” Andy’s face was blank, and she was working on achieving the same state in her mind. “You can’t tell me your relationship isn’t _intensely_ physical, Andy, I can tell.”

Andy thought of the time when they’d been children playing on the beach over summer, when Nicky had built a sandcastle using _her_ favourite bucket and she’d threatened to beat him up because of it. She somehow doubted that was the kind of physicality Dr Kozak was referring to though.

“Quynh,” Andy said instead, turning her head to the other woman so quickly she splashed some water at Dr Kozak, “I just remembered why I came over. Sophie sent me, she wanted to speak to you about something.”

Quynh looked startled, but Andy hadn’t placed her faith in her erroneously. “Oh, of course, we keep missing each other! Do you know where she is?”

Andy cleared her throat. “Yes, I think she’s just over there in the treatment area. I’ll take you.”

“Great!” Quynh smiled, and actually had the poise to turn to Dr Kozak and say: “So sorry, Meta, but we’ll pick this up later, I have a few more questions about the hormone extraction.”

Andy was already halfway out of the water and back in her robe, unable to wait for Quynh. Because the second she caught up with her, also clad in a fluffy white robe, they took one look at each other and burst into barely contained laughter.

“I cannot believe she actually decided this would be a good moment to make comments about your sex life,” Quynh said, an actual tear running out of her eye from trying to keep her giggles down.

“I cannot believe she decided to tell us about _hers_! How am I ever going to look my boss in the eye again?”

They’d calmed down somewhat by the time they reached the treatment area, where Sophie was actually reclining on a chair, although it seemed unlikely that she was waiting for either of them. There was a half-finished mimosa on the table next to her, and she had two cucumber slices on top of her eyes.

“Yeah, she took one sip of her drink this morning and has been asleep since.” Quynh nodded to the chairs next to Sophie’s for them to sit down. “Good call on leaving early yesterday evening by the way, from what I gather it got even merrier as the evening went on. I don’t think Joe ever made it to bed, to be honest.”

 _Huh_. “I don’t think he was the only one,” Andy said, “I’m going to be very surprised if anybody on this hunting trip is actually going to shoot anything.”

Quynh smiled. “As long as they don’t turn to shooting each other.”

Andy had a very brief flash of a mental image that included Steven Merrick’s face viewed through cross hairs, but saying that out loud still felt a bit too drastic for what was turning out to be a perfectly pleasant spa day.

“Do you want some drinks?” Andy hadn’t noticed Nile turn up, so there she suddenly was, holding a Bloody Mary and a mimosa.

“Oh Nile, are they making you wait at this thing?” she asked, even as she somewhat gratefully accepted her Bloody Mary. Hair of the dog, and all. Hadn’t killed her yet.

“Oh no, don’t worry.” Nile smiled. “I’m off to have the fanciest facial I could find, I just thought you could use- Or well, you might like a drink.”

“Thanks,” Quynh said, toasting the air Nile left behind as she went to get her facial. Andy took a sip of her drink. Yeah, she was going to have a word with payroll after this weekend, see if she could scare them into giving Nile a little bonus for this weekend if she wasn’t already getting one.

“Uhm, Andy?” Quynh’s voice brought her back from her benefactor daydreams. “I was just thinking about what you said yesterday, and I think Nicky was probably right. There’s something fishy going on with Dr Kozak.”

“You mean apart from where she’s screwing Merrick?”

Quynh snorted. “She might be screwing him in more ways than one.”

Andy took another sip, then set her drink down. “Tell me more.”

Quynh’s fingers twisted in the belt of her robe, like she was nervous to be bringing this up. “She’s been telling me about some of this hormone extraction that she’s been doing, like she said. And I didn’t really know what that meant, so I asked her to explain and then when she did, I made a comment along the lines of: ‘Oh, I’m sure it’s really hard to find a large sample of people willing to have their hormonal balance meddled with like this,” and she got really weirdly in my face about it. She asked me if I was suggesting she didn’t abide by ethical standards.”

Quynh swallowed, and all of a sudden, Andy knew _exactly_ where this was going.

“And I hadn’t been, but the fact that she was so weird about it made me think she might be.”

Andy looked at a point somewhere over Quynh’s shoulder. The thing was, she _knew_ Quynh was right. She knew if Nicky had been the one in the whirlpool just then, he’d be telling her the exact same thing. But she couldn’t shake the bitter taste of truth. Of the knowledge that what she’d overheard Joe say the night before had been accurate.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to suggest that what Merrick Industries does as a whole is unethical.” Quynh’s eyes were wide all of a sudden as she scrambled to apologised, likely misinterpreting Andy’s vacant gaze. “I know you consult on their business practices, and I didn’t want to- I’m sure you’re proud of what you do, and I’m sure you have every right to be.”

And that was just the thing, wasn’t it? Andy chanced another look at her face, the genuine worry on there, and couldn’t help the bitter laugh that made its way out her throat. This woman was either the best non-professional actress she’d ever seen, or, well. Or she was about to change Andy’s life. What was it about these _Partners Weekends_?

Andy got up, taking her Bloody Mary with her. “I think I have a massage booked now.”

* * *

Quynh stared after Andy as she walked off into one of the treatment rooms. She was trying to decide what it was that she’d said that had been so wrong, and to assess whether the damage she’d done was already irreparable.

“You want to take this organisation down?”

Quynh’s head whipped around. Sophie had taken off one of the cucumbers and was sipping on her mimosa.

“Did you hear all of that?”

Sophie smirked. “I’m like a bat, just prettier. And don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. If organisational sabotage is on the cards here, that is. Just, you know. Let us know beforehand so Sebastien can cash in his shares before everything goes up in smoke.”

Quynh’s mind was reeling. “I- I hadn’t even considered that. Do you think-”

“Nuh-uh,” Sophie interrupted her, holding up her index finger to stop her in her tracks. “No thinking today. You know nothing good comes of that.”

Quynh turned to look at the door of the treatment room Andy had vanished into again. How right Sophie was.

* * *

“I’m trying to put this delicately.” Andy’s masseuse was a tall Russian woman, with broad shoulders, a tiny waist, and strong, strong hands. “But you have the tensest muscles I’ve ever seen.”

“I get that all the time.” If Andy hadn’t already spent the better part of a day trying to talk herself out of hoping something, much less trying something – this would have been an attempt at flirting.

“This is not a good thing.” The masseuse slapped some oil onto Andy’s back. “Please try to relax.”

And oh, if only. It was what Andy had come for, after all. She cast her mind back to the _Partners Weekend_ she’d been at the year before, when every single thought she’d had didn’t feel like she was going batshit insane. When the people she’d met had seemed interesting and passionate about what they did instead of menacing and slightly unhinged. Had she met Dr Kozak then? She couldn’t recall, too many memories overshadowed by how much she’d been trying to forget even the happy memories she’d had with Lykon, and the many, many drinks Booker and her had managed to sink.

She must have met Merrick though. Had she really taken a look at this twenty-, thirty-something with a lot of talk, some ideals but a questionable attitude to work practices and thought, _this seems like a great place to work_?

Her masseuse pressed down on a particularly painful nerve and she spasmed a little. “Relax!”

Andy needed to think of something else. Only now that she was thinking about it, it was quite hard to stop. Since her break-up with Lykon, there had been quite a few things she’d been turning a bit of a blind eye on. Because their roles were so similar, they’d split the areas of work they looked after to make sure they had to collaborate as little as physically possible. And of course, unlike what Dr Kozak thought, the management of the ethics board was completely Lykon’s territory. She hadn’t even _listened_ in so many board meetings. Had things really gotten so bad that they were now conducting human trials without full disclosure of side effects, or what the trials entailed even?

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to massage you, if you are a stone table, not a human,” her masseuse admonished her.

“It’s alright,” Andy told her, and got up, “I think it might not be the right time for me.” She left the treatment area and stepped into one of the cold showers close to the saunas to clear her head and wash away some of the residue massage oil.

She hissed at the water temperature and closed her eyes. The cold water shocked in the best way possible, but it didn’t wash away the knowledge that had been gnawing at her insides since Quynh had told her about Dr Kozak. That even if she had ulterior motives. She was right. And her motives may not be so bad.

When Andy opened her eyes and stepped out of the shower, Quynh was back in one of the whirlpools, although mercifully alone this time. And she was already looking at her.

Andy took a deep breath and felt half the knots in her back ease down as she went over to join Quynh in the whirlpool. Who knew resolution was all it took sometimes?

* * *

“Oh my God,” Nile sighed, “are they trying to recreate a vine?”

Sophie lifted one of her cucumbers to take a look at what was happening in the whirlpools. Andy and Quynh were sharing one, indeed, but they were sitting at opposite ends, facing each other. “Recreate a what?”

Nile groaned.

* * *

Quynh was rarely overwhelmed. Years of running her own company had given her access to one of the best poker faces on the market, if she was allowed to say so herself, and even though a heady mix of alcohol and what _had_ to be hormones had led to her making some interesting choices this weekend so far, she was, generally, a very cool person.

But there was very little that could have prepared her for Andy coming over to the whirlpool she was sitting in, dripping from a cold shower in a tiny, tiny bikini and generally looking like an Amazonian who’d gotten lost in the rain, and say to her: “I’ve got a confession to make.”

This was the first indication that Quynh was going to need all the poker face she had.

“I overheard you and Joe yesterday.”

 _Fuckkkkkk._ This was the realisation that it was going to be very hard to keep up. It always was in the face of failure, and even worse when it meant you’d failed a friend. Her brain scrambled for everything she’d said to Joe the day before, all the times they could have been overheard. Joe was going to be so disappointed that their secret was blown.

Quynh swallowed. “I can explain-“

“No, no, don’t worry,” Andy said, swiping her wet hair out of her face, “there’s no need to explain. I understand what it’s like, being full of entrepreneurial spirit and the desire to build your own business, even if I haven’t made the same choices in my life, I get it.”

Quynh’s heart rate, which had been ricocheting at a worrying pace around her ears, began to ease of ever so slightly. “Thank you,” she said, “I’m very- I’m so glad you say that. Joe’s been working at Merrick Industries for so long and I really wouldn’t want this to reflect badly on him.”

“It’s fine, I promise,” Andy said, the hint of a smile on her face. “I think other than me probably nobody will be able to trace it back to him.”

Quynh didn’t know how to respond to this. She didn’t really know how to respond to anything that Andy was saying, particularly not in an overheated whirlpool with nothing but water and flimsy clothing between them, their knees nearly touching, but she knew that she now had two reasons to die of embarrassment for the rest of the weekend. She half-considered asking Andy if they could just keep it between the two of them.

“So I really just wanted to come over and say, whatever you’re doing, well,” Andy bit her lip and this was it. This was the moment Quynh was going to die, although she didn’t yet know the exact cause, only that it was going to be related to that lip bite. “It’s working.”

Quynh wanted to cry, but instead she forced herself to huff out a laugh. “Well, it’s a relief to know we’re convincing as a couple.”

“And so if you were thinking about asking me for a discussion somewhere other than here,” Andy continued as if she hadn’t heard her, “Or just a casual talk about what a future for me with your business might look like, I’d be-“

She paused at exactly the same moment Quynh realised she’d made a monumental mistake. Which was quite a feat for the second time in the span of less than a minute. “Wait. What did you just say?”

“I-“ Quynh started, but before she could finish her sentence, or even think more carefully about how she was going to explain _that_ , she was interrupted by a disturbance in the water.

“There you both are,” Dr Kozak said, wading into the whirlpool and sitting down between them, “I don’t think we ever finished our conversation.”

And Quynh couldn’t believe she was actually thinking this. But couldn’t Dr Kozak have showed up a little _earlier_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ... I mean she is the reason I now say 'Yes, Quynh" instead of "Yas, Queen" so she can have a little slip up, ~~to advance the 'plot'~~ as a treat :D
> 
> Come shout at me in the comments or on [tumblr](https://morallygreywaren.tumblr.com/ask)!


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some people decide not go to bed, join a hunting party, and gain a family member.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOW IS THIS NEARLY 5,000 WORDS? (I blame the flashbacks, for which I'd like to apologise, because the past participle and I aren't particularly good friends.)
> 
> CW: There are some guns in this one, and they're not used entirely safely by everyone. It's _nothing_ compared to the film, but it might not be what you expect from this story, so this is just a head's up.
> 
> (@quynhtessentials, if you want a soundtrack, here you go: [Something Just Like This by The Chainsmokers & Coldplay](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FM7MFYoylVs&ab_channel=ChainsmokersVEVO))

Nicky hadn’t looked up from his cup of coffee for about fifteen minutes when Booker joined him and Joe at their breakfast table in the dining hall.

“You’re looking well,” he said in a tone just loud enough to be painful, slapping both of their shoulders.

Nicky flinched. He’d started to like Booker. But clearly this was a sentiment developed while drunk, and turned out to be more fickle after the fact.

“Piss off, Book,” Joe said. Much like Nicky, he had also mainly been contemplating his coffee so far, but downed it now that breakfast was nearly over, and most of the other people in the dining hall were starting to file out. Nicky figured he should do the same.

“Late night?” Booker asked.

Even with all his mental abilities intact and not on the verge of throwing up, Nicky wouldn’t have known how to express in English that it hadn’t really been a late night, since it strictly speaking never ended.

How did you decide to stay awake all night? There were two options: You either were sixteen, and realised for the first time that you _could_ , so you did. Or you had to be up early for something and you realised it had gotten so late that going to sleep would be pointless.

Nicky wasn’t sixteen anymore – thank God for that – but he sure had been behaving like one. Or at least like this was some sort of school trip, not a corporate weekend his best friend had invited him to. Did people in their thirties really still decide to stay up all night? Nicky had always considered himself a morning person, sure, but that did include getting a couple hours of sleep beforehand. (An early night too, if he had to give a preference, although that had been a more recent addition.)

He didn’t know whose idea it had been to stay up so they would definitely be up for their hunting trip at six, but he was pretty sure it hadn’t been him. He hadn’t even managed to actually stay awake the entire night.

About an hour earlier, Nicky had woken up on one of the deck chairs by the pool after what couldn’t have been more than an hour of sleep. He’d been freezing, his teeth shattering as he stretched and yawned, even though there’d been a leather jacket covering his upper body.

Joe’d been sitting on the deck chair next to his, a sketchbook and pencil in hand, the first rays of sunlight illuminating his curls like a soft halo. A sight much too angelic for how Nicky had felt, at any rate, and he’d had to look away.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Nicky had said. His voice had felt like it was going through a grater. “It was rude to pass out on you, you didn’t need to stay out here with me.”

Joe had only smiled and put his sketchbook away before Nicky could ask to see what it was he’d been sketching. Maybe that had been for the best.

“Oh no, no, this weekend is a no man left behind kind of affair. Also I’m pretty sure I’ll crash somewhere before the day is out, so you may yet have to pull me from a ditch in the woods somewhere.”

“Gladly,” Nicky had said, and held up the leather jacket to check it was Joe’s. He hadn’t wanted to give it back, the comforting smell of another person and sleep soothing his senses, but he’d felt like he probably should. Joe’d only shaken his head and gestured to how much Nicky had been shivering purely from the fact that he’d removed the jacket, so Nicky had shown him a tight-lipped smile – moving too much had been painful – and put on the jacket.

“How are you feeling?” he’d asked Joe.

“I’m pretty sure I’m still drunk,” Joe’d said, his grin turning dopey as if to emphasise the point. Nicky hadn’t been sure how to react to that, but it seemed moving was the wrong choice. He’d been pretty sure that was bile at the back of his throat.

“What about you?” Joe’d asked, tone suddenly hesitant.

“I’ve moved on to being hungover,” Nicky said, and pressed the balls of his hands into his eyes. “You might need to fill me in on a couple of details from last night later.”

“Alright then,” Joe laughed, and held out his hand to help him up, “let’s get you some breakfast first.”

And now here they were on their way to the armoury at Hampton Manor to get equipped for the hunting trip. The plan had worked, they were awake. _But at what cost?_

The coffee had been nice, but Nicky still felt like his brain was about to explode, most memories from the night before hazy at best, coming back to him only in chunks and snippets. He remembered clearly leaving their room and bumping into Booker in the bar, then chatting to Joe about football and his family. He didn’t entirely remember where the conversation had moved on to after that, only that he’d been glad it was less awkward when it was just the two of them. He’d still felt like he’d have to shove his entire fist into his mouth every time Joe smiled, sure, but it was amazing what alcohol could do to loosen the tongue. Not that that was always a good thing.

Joe and him hadn’t exchanged a single word since they’d gone to get breakfast together, but Nicky found that he didn’t mind so much, commiserating in silence. It was… comfortable.

Unlike the situation they were about to get into. Booker, Joe and Nicky were some of the last people to arrive at the armoury, and everything Nicky saw happening there made him contemplate if it was too late to turn around and actually go to bed yet. Grown men running around with shotguns they didn’t know how to hold properly didn’t really inspire confidence, but Nicky spotted at least ten of the younger men fooling around with their weapons like they were on a paintball mission. The only reason he didn’t roll his eyes was because he knew it would be too painful. Some people just shouldn’t be armed, on principle.

“And they do this every year?” Joe asked Booker with a tone of disgust in his voice, looking at the same men Nicky had just been judging.

“Yep,” Booker said, and accepted a shotgun from one of the Field Masters who’d come over to instruct them. Nicky did his best to listen to their instructions, but he was familiar with gun safety and he didn’t actually intend on shooting anything on this trip.

He’d been hunting before, but he’d never understood the bloodlust with which some people seemed to approach the subject. Once, many years ago, Nicky had been on a date with a guy, and thought it’d been going really well, until he’d started telling Nicky how well his badger culling campaign was going. Once Nicky had figured out that it was, in fact, a campaign in favour of the cull, he’d simply downed his drink and left. There were limits.

The Field Master left them and gestured for them to follow the rest of the hunting party, and Nicky noted with an edge of amusement the scepticism in Joe’s eyes when he looked at the shotgun in his hands.

“And we _have_ to shoot something?” he asked Booker again.

Booker snorted. “Of course not, look at them. Most of these men are terrible shots.”

Nicky believed that in a heartbeat. He was smiling to himself, but stopped when he realised Joe’s gaze had travelled to him.

“You look familiar with a gun,” he said to Nicky, his tone light, but there was something underneath Nicky couldn’t detect. He nodded in assent.

“So… You go hunting often?” Joe asked.

“I’m familiar with a gun, not with violence.” Nicky smiled. “Andy taught me how to shoot.”

This information was more exciting to Booker and Joe than he’d expected.

“ _Of course_ Andy knows how to shoot a gun,” Joe said.

“I told you she’d be the one you’d want on your side if there was a zombie invasion,” Booker said, clearly referring to an ongoing debate that two of them had been having, and Nicky laughed in surprise.

“You would,” he said, “but I think she’s more terrifying with an axe.”

There was an eight out of ten chance he’d have to pay for a comment like that later, but when Andy found out, he’d hopefully have recovered from his hangover and would have less qualms reminding her that he was doing _her_ a favour.

He left Joe and Booker to digest this new piece of information about their work friend and plucked his phone from his pocket to check on Mia. There still was not update on whether she’d actually gone into labour, which he supposed was to be expected, even if it had happened. His sister wasn’t the Queen, after all. But at some point, Paolo had texted him a picture of an empty, family-sized bag of _taralli,_ captioned: _Less than 5h. New record?_

Nicky smiled and was about to type a reply, when the image brought with it a memory from the night before that made him falter in his tracks.

It would have been late, maybe around 2am or 3am, and Joe and him had been discussing what it felt like being an immigrant in London, the difference in Nicky moving over from an EU country to Joe’s parents coming to England from Tunisia in the 70s. How hard it could be at times, but how they still had no intentions of returning. How the thing they’d missed most was the food, no question.

“I think they don’t let you finish your citizenship application if you don’t answer the question ‘what do you get on your way home from a night out’ with ‘a kebab’,” Joe had said and Nicky had laughed at how terrible and entirely correct this fact was.

“Or maybe a pizza,” he’d agreed, putting the word in quotation marks, “both of which you can buy at what is actually a fish and chip shop.”

They’d both laughed in the slightly hysterical way you do after around four pints.

“But tell you what, I’d kill for something greasy to eat right about now.”

“Wanna break into the kitchens?”

It had been stupid idea, any subtlety or grace required to break into anything entirely lost to them at that point. (Luckily, the kitchens had still been open, so they hadn’t actually damaged anything on their way to heat up something called ‘cheesy spinach-puffs’. Nicky had still giggled like a child the entire time.)

The spinach puffs had been warm and fatty, the only requirement either of them had had for food at that point.

“Good?” he’d asked.

Joe had hummed in assent and closed his eyes. “It’s a far cry from pizza, but does the trick just nicely.”

Nicky remembered smiling, probably wide enough to look slightly unhinged, before he’d said: “I’ve got to have you round for pizza at some point, I feel like you’d appreciate when it’s made the proper way.”

“Oh, I _would_. But maybe check with Andy first, I get the sense she might be thrilled to have some of her colleagues know where and how she lives.”

Joe had laughed so easily, sucking spinach from the pad of thumb, Nicky could see where things had gone wrong for him. There simply hadn’t been any capacity in his mind to reflect, before he’d scrunch up his face and said: “Andy?”

“Yeah,” Joe had said, “or do you not live together?”

Nicky’s brain had been slow. It had felt like he’d had to piece together every single step that led him to sitting on a kitchen floor in the middle of the night eating heated-up finger food, and only when he’d arrived back at dinner did he realise his mistake. His _mistakes._

“Oh, I mean- Uh, no, we don’t. But I’m sure it will be fine, anyway. You should bring Quynh, too.”

 _That shouldn’t have been an afterthought,_ he chided himself, still standing on the path leading into the forest, the hunting party slowly ambling away from him. If all of his other memories were like this- Nicky closed his eyes. Maybe it was best if most of them stayed forgotten.

* * *

“So,” Booker said when they were just out of earshot, Nicky falling back behind them to check on his phone. His sister was probably due to give birth any moment now. “Am I right in thinking that that’s _your_ leather jacket Nicky is wearing?”

“Hmm?” Joe didn’t turn around. It had been difficult enough getting his breathing back under control when Nicky had put the jacket on in the first place. But he should have known it would take more to deflect Booker, who was the unbeaten champion of the casually judgmental eyebrow raise at Merrick Industries. _Damn the French._

“Well he’d been… cold,” he said. Which really was reasonable enough, Joe thought, definitely not enough to solicit as smug a grin from Booker as it did. But then, Booker had been drinking more heavily than either of them all day, and appeared to be more or less fine, so Joe supposed he had more than one thing to be smug about.

Joe sighed and let his head sink. In fairness, Booker had every right to be smug. Whatever choices he’d made, he’d clearly been much better prepared to deal with them that Joe was with his.

“You okay there?” Booker asked.

Joe was walking into a forest with a group of men who he’d begun to suspect was largely made up of sociopaths, carrying a _gun_ , and trying to decide whether the feeling in his upper stomach was a remnant of drunk euphoria or the first sign that he might need to throw up soon. There were many words for what Joe was, but okay was not one of them.

“No,” he said.

“Alright then.”

 _Fuck Booker and his endless nonchalance._ Joe raked a hand through his hair. “Look, I think I may have done something stupid yesterday. Like, hit on a straight married man stupid, and I feel like I should apologise, but I’m not sure he remembers, in which case it would probably be best if I never spoke of it again.”

“Hmm.” Booker was definitely grinning this time around. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”

“I’m not going to ask him, Book. I feel like that’s generally not a good idea when people are armed.”

“Oh my, what did you do?”

Joe chanced a look back at Nicky, who’d stopped walking and was staring off into the distance. He wasn’t sure that was a good sign. He also wasn’t sure if Nicky in his leather jacket, holding a shot gun, was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, but just in case, he looked for a moment longer.

“It wasn’t even that bad,” Joe said, “I think.”

It had been pushing 4am when Joe realised he was still talking to Nicky, and approximately 10 seconds longer for him to realise that he didn’t want to stop.

“Oh wow,” he’d said, pointing at the grandfather clock in the corner of the bar. The staff had long gone to bed at that point, but the lights were on all night. “I’ve got to admit, I don’t think I’ve ever even stayed up this long when I was on a date.”

He’d immediately wanted to swallow his tongue after that comment, but it hadn’t seemed to faze Nicky. Who’d likely been drunker than him at that point, actually, because they’d found a bottle of Grappa behind the bar somewhere, and Joe, as someone who wasn’t even all that used to drinking, had begun to draw the line there. (It had been a fairly porous line, but it had existed.)

“Oh, are we playing Never Have I Ever now?” Nicky had asked, and squinted at the clock. “I don’t know if I’ve ever stayed up this long on a date. What time is it anyway?”

“Just gone four.”

“Oh fuck,” Nicky had said, giving Joe’s heart a little jolt. He didn’t know why he delighted so much in hearing people swear for the first time, but it was always special, that little loss of inhibition. “When do we need to be up for that hunt again?”

“In a little less than two hours?” Joe had shuddered at the thought. “Probably no point going to bed anymore, now.”

Nicky had considered this for a moment, then shrugged, and taken another sip of Grappa.

And Joe didn’t know what had possessed him, but he’d leaned forward before he could stop himself. “Now that’s definitely something I’ve never said on a date before.”

He’d probably actually swallowed his tongue after saying that. He didn’t know what else would have been blocking his throat, but he hadn’t been able to breathe, that was for sure. The look he’d been giving Nicky must have been somewhere close to ‘deer in headlights’, but Nicky had only looked at him with those big storm cloud eyes of his before casting his gaze down onto his drink and mumbling something that Joe hadn’t caught. It may have involved the word ‘lucky’, but he couldn’t be sure.

Then Nicky had downed his drink, set it down, looked back up at Joe and said: “Wanna go to the pool?”

Booker, naturally, was laughing at him. “Oh come on, Joe, you would have had to be absolutely leering at him for that to be suggestive.”

Joe glared at him.

“Fair point,” Booker said, “but honestly, I’m sure it could’ve been worse.”

“What could?” Nicky asked with a breathy little laugh, having jogged over to catch up with them. 

“Joe’s haircut,” Booker said without missing a beat, shit-eating grin firmly back in place. “The curls are too long, don’t you think?”

Joe wondered if strangling Booker would get him fired if he managed to make it look like an accident. Then he realised he was holding a gun.

“Oh, I don’t think you need to worry. The curls look very nice at this length,” Nicky told him, his tone more sincere than the statement required. But when Joe looked back at him, he wouldn’t meet Joe’s eyes.

 _Great_. He didn’t even know what had brought this on, but things were about to turn awkward again. Joe glared at Booker, just in case. When you couldn’t find anyone else to blame, Booker was often a safe bet, but he only rolled his eyes at Joe.

“So Nicky,” Booker said, slapping his shoulder again. “You know how to shoot, you’re going out with one of the scariest people we know, are there any other fascinating secrets you’re hiding from us?”

Nicky’s ears flushed a startingly shade of scarlet, and Joe suspected that in his attempt to make light conversation, Booker had only made everything worse.

He cleared his throat. “I don’t think you’ve told us what you’re doing for a living yet, actually.” Just something simple, to get them back on steady footing.

“Ah,” Nicky said, scratching his neck, “that’s probably because that is a bit of a complicated topic at the moment.” Maybe not so steady footing.

Nicky cleared his throat. “I used to work in securities.”

Joe wished he knew what that meant, and why Nicky looked so hung up about it. “Does that mean you were… a bodyguard?”

It clearly didn’t, but Joe was glad to have made both of them chuckle, even if it was at his expense.

“No,” Nicky said, “it’s a form of asset management.”

Joe knew that this, at the very least, should mean something to him, but he still found himself mouthing ‘what does that mean’ at Booker.

Booker did not have the good grace to reply equally quietly, though. “It means that at some point Nicolò here was making more money than those three guys combined.” He gestured to the last row of men walking a couple of metres ahead of them in the hunting party.

Nicky grimaced at this. “It wasn’t a point of pride,” he said, his voice smaller than before. “Nothing like a financial crisis to put that sort of thing into perspective.”

Joe cleared his throat. “So what are you doing now?”

“I quit a couple of years ago to go back to university,” Nicky said, “I’m about to start general training to become a GP and I’ve been working as a paramedic for experience, so sort of… in between things.”

Joe realised at that exact point what his problem was going to be. Well, had been for a solid few hours at this point. He’d made a suggestive remark to Nicky earlier that day, maybe, which Nicky likely didn’t remember, and that- Well, maybe it wouldn’t have been fine, it was a pretty terrible thing to do, hitting on your boss’s partner, whatever the circumstances. But Joe probably would’ve gotten over it, the blunder and the attraction, if Nicky had only just been a random straight man who happened to be exactly Joe’s type.

No, the problem was that he _wanted_ to date someone like Nicky. Someone who was funny, and loved his family, and made awful jokes and cared deeply enough about the world and how he moved through it to make drastic changes to his life. A person who continued to take his breath away every turn of the way. He wanted that more than anything.

And he knew that Nicky wasn’t that person, couldn’t be that person, but the more he tried to tell himself that, the worse his situation seemed to get.

And 7am was far too early to have an inner crisis like this.

“I think maybe we need to try and catch up a bit more,” Booker said, “the others are quite far ahead now and they’ll probably start shooting soon.”

Joe nodded and moved to pick up speed with him, but soon realised that Nicky wasn’t coming with them. He just stood nailed to the spot, staring at his phone, face inscrutable. It could be great news, the best news. Or it could be-

“I’m gonna go catch up with the others,” Booker said, “you stay with him, best not to leave anyone alone. If I remember correctly, you just need to follow this path and then take a right when it splits.”

“You got it, Book,” Joe saluted him, but didn’t turn to look as he jogged off, eyes already trained on Nicky again.

“Hey,” he called, “everything alright?”

When he got closer, he realised Nicky’s eyes were shining more than usual, tears threatening to drop onto his cheeks. _Oh no_ , Joe thought, _oh this is-_

But then a grin split open on Nicky’s face, tears spilling over as he covered his grin with his hand.

“ _Look_ ,” he said, and turned his phone so Joe could see. It was opened to a WhatsApp chat, the picture of a tiny sleeping infant with a scrunched up face covered in a yellow blanket taking up most the screen. It was captioned _posso presentare Elena_ , but Nicky’s hand was shaking too much for Joe too make out much else.

“Well, congratulations,” Joe said, “officially Uncle Nicolò now?”

“Yes!” Nicky said, nodding enthusiastically, and then he was hugging Joe, and Joe’s heart soared, and it felt like it was splitting clean in half. Here was a man wearing his leather jacket, throwing himself into his arms after a night they’d spent together doing nothing but talk to each other to celebrate a new arrival to his family. In a parallel universe, this may well have been one of the highlights of Joe’s year. In this one, it felt like almost too much to bear on top of a steadily increasing hangover.

They split after a moment, clapping each other’s backs. “Did you want to call Mia? I don’t mind if you do it on the way, but I think we should probably try to catch up with the others.”

Nicky nodded, wiping away some of his tears, still looking overjoyed, before falling into step with Joe and calling his sister.

There was a flow of rapid Italian between the two of them that Joe half-listened in to, picking up stray phrases he knew like _she has your face_ or _she’s very heavy_ here and there, but otherwise hopelessly lost in the melody of Nicky’s voice. When they reached the split in the road, Joe tugged on the sleeve of Nicky’s jacket – well, his jacket – to turn them down the path to the right. Nicky graciously smiled at him, and telling his heart to stop pounding was going to be to no avail, but Joe tried anyway.

It was still going strong even when Nicky hung up. “Everybody alright? All present and correct?” Joe asked.

“Yeah,” Nicky said. He sounded breathy, still beaming across his entire face. “Mia is fine, she wasn’t going into labour so they performed a Caesarean in the end and then it was over pretty quickly from what I heard. Elena is all healthy, too, as far as they know. Heavy, but I think that’s better for babies anyway.”

He looked ridiculously happy when he said his niece’s name, and Joe realised he’d probably said it out loud for the first time to a person who wasn’t his sister.

“Yeah, I’ve heard as much,” Joe replied. He’d long given up from keeping his own smile from his face.

“Makes them look cuter, too,” Nicky said, but then seemed to think of something else entirely. “Sorry, I don’t mean to talk about babies and my niece the entire time.”

“Don’t worry, it’s completely understandable!” He clapped Nicky on the shoulder. “People do it all the time when it’s their own children, it’s actually quite refreshing to hear someone talk about someone else’s baby for a change.”

Joe hadn’t thought it was possible for Nicky to grin any wider, but alas. It wouldn’t be the first thing he’d been wrong about. “I can’t wait to have my own children,” Nicky told him like it was a secret, and there it was.

The moment that Joe would’ve asked him out if literally all of the circumstances under which they’d met had been different. He wasn’t sure what to do with that realisation, but he wasn’t given a lot of time to contemplate it.

“Watch out,” Nicky shouted all of a sudden, dropped his gun and pulled Joe’s head down, making them both tumble to the ground and of the path. In his surprise, Joe had dropped his own gun as well, and was now breathing hard and fast. Which could have also been due to the fact that Nicky was now lying on top of him, face maybe an inch away from his own. That there was a shot still ringing through the air barely even registered for Joe. Hearing was only one sense, after all, and right now, it was losing out against literally all of the others, which were becoming rapidly attuned to the weight of another man on top of him, the scent of his sweat mixed with Joe’s leather jacket, his breathing harsh close to Joe’s ear.

“What is-“ he tried to ask, but Nicky shushed him with a finger. For a moment, Joe thought he might place it on his lips, and a not insubstantial part of his conscious thinking capacities decided to call it a day at that exact point. Who even cared what was going on anymore.

There were footsteps approaching from somewhere, but they were somewhat hidden by a tree growing close to the road.

“Keane, come on.” That sounded like Merrick’s voice. “It was probably just your imagination.”

“I know what I saw!” And that was definitely Keane, shouting back, in a tone that… not many would take with their boss. “I saw something moving over here, something big. We’ve never shot a proper deer before, and if there are some, I want first shoot.”

Nicky was shaking his head above Joe, eyes full of disdain, and Joe wondered if they should get up to make themselves known. On the other hand, Keane was known to be a pretty impulsive character, and Joe didn’t really want to test how that combined with a shotgun and unexpected movement in his peripheral vision.

“And you’ll get first shoot,” Merrick said, a definite edge in his voice, “now come on, let's go somewhere with actual deer, please.”

Joe held his breath, but after a while, the shuffling of the footsteps got lighter, until the only sound was birdsong and the sound of Nicky’s shaky exhale in his ear. Which did nothing to resuscitate Joe’s brain functions.

“What the fuck,” he said, laughing and rolled off Joe not a moment too soon, or the day would’ve probably taken a nosedive to complete and utter mortification for Joe. He didn’t even have the air left in his lungs to join Nicky laughing. His heart was beating fast to supply his brain with oxygen, at least, only it seemed none of the blood really made it anywhere above his belly button at the moment.

“How did that happen?” Nicky asked.

Joe closed his eyes so at the very least he wouldn’t have to look at him. “I think-“ And he would have laughed, if he’d known how to, adrenaline and exhaustion at war in his body, “I think Booker may have given me the wrong directions.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Booker, that kills people!"
> 
> Also, me @ me: Did you just use the financial crisis of 2008 as a very, very rough metaphor for the first crusade? Okay then.
> 
> I have tried to research how to organise a hunting party without horses for this (pretty sure the Conservative Party has begun to target me with ads _as we speak_ ) but it's probably fairly obvious that I don't know the first thing about guns from this. If there's anything that bugs you about how I've written about them, please let me know, and I'll get that fixed.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some people catch up on much needed sleep before giving important presentations, and some other people finally talk to each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to apologise to anyone who knows anything about gardening, science, image rights, or Latin. All my crimes were committed out of love.
> 
> (@quynthessentials, [here's](https://open.spotify.com/track/6VrLYoQKdhu1Jruei06t65) your song for the Andromaquynh scene, which totally wasn't an excuse for having Andy stride around a field like Mr Darcy in the 2005 Pride and Prejudice film)

Quynh hesitated in front of their room door, trying to figure out if she wanted Joe to be in it or not. She’d more or less fled from the spa the second Dr Kozak had stopped for breath – which was still a considerable amount of time to be avoiding Andy’s shell-shocked stare – and tried to calm down by pacing the halls of the manor in her dressing gown until she got cold.

Quynh wasn’t even a panicky person. On the contrary. How many meetings had she walked into knowing that she or her team had made a mistake without it bothering her in the slightest? How many times had she given clients a once over to check how much _they_ were aware of a mistake being made in the first place, before she’d ever even opened her mouth? But no, the _one_ time her _one_ key skill mattered anywhere outside of work, where she could have used it because she was doing her best friend a favour, it completely failed her. She knew that she had to tell Joe, and preferably sooner rather than later, for damage control. And if Joe was in their room, the sooner would probably escalate into an ‘immediately’. The only way out being through and all that.

Quynh sighed. She pushed open the door and peeked inside. The bad news was that Joe was in their room. The good news was that he was starfished across the bed, leather jacket spread across his face to block out the sun, and very obviously asleep.

Quynh stepped inside the room and quietly closed the door behind her before walking over to sit on the bed. She debated whether she should wake him.

It wouldn’t be a great wake-up call. She still wasn’t entirely sure how he’d spent the night, but given the way he looked (rumpled, dirt stains on his shirt) and how he smelled (like that night they tried to find out how much tequila was _too much_ tequila), she was positive he needed any and all the sleep he could get.

Only she knew what it was like. If their roles were reversed, she’d rather know, and if Joe was already going to be mad at her, she’d rather he be mad at her for only one reason. Which was, of course, already impossible, only she hadn’t even been able to think about what Andy had actually been trying to tell her. 

“Joe,” she whispered, reaching over and pulling the leather jacket away from Joe’s face. This accomplished exactly nothing, other than Joe making a snuffly little sound and bringing his hands up hold on to the jacket. How he hadn’t suffocated himself in that thing was a mystery, but she’d long stopped questioning Joe’s ability to sleep in any and all conditions.

“Joe,” she said a bit louder, giving the jacket another tug. “Joe, wake up.”

He rolled around to bury his head in the pillow, taking the jacket with him. He really had brought half of a forest floor into this bed. Quynh wondered if there was such a thing as room service here, because she was _not_ sleeping in that.

“Hey,” she gently smacked his thigh. Still nothing.

Quynh walked around the bed and shook his shoulder. “Yusuf!”

For a moment, she thought that did it. Yusuf blinked, once, twice, then mumbled what sounded like a very intelligible “It’s not what it looks like,” before going straight back to sleep.

 _Typical_.

She crouched on the floor so their faces were close, and considered shouting at him, but even just taking a deep breath felt like she was getting a second-hand hangover. Joe would appreciate how nice their shower was whenever he deigned to join the living again, because he desperately needed one before he went to his presentation with Merrick.

Until then, it appeared Quynh was on her own for damage control. She sighed and tugged Joe’s leather jacket back up, so it was covering his shoulder up to his chin. Then she sat on the floor, her back against the bed.

“I’m sorry, Joe,” she said, just to get it off her chest. “I slipped up, and I think I might have blown our cover. And I want to say please don’t be mad, but you have every right to be.” _The thing you_ specifically _asked me not to do may have happened as well and I can’t even begin to tell you about that._ Quynh turned around and looked at Joe’s sleeping form. “Only, Joe, do you think it would really be so bad? If some people knew? Don’t get me wrong, I can tell half the company are ignorant fuckwits, but I don’t see someone like Andy treating you any differently. I know you say she’s scary, but I think all she’d do is laugh at you for a little bit, and then laugh with you. You know, like I did.”

There was a little pang of guilt somewhere in her stomach that she didn’t usually allow, but then Joe let out a loud snore and she laughed despite herself.

“Okay, this is beginning to feel like I’m an old lady talking to her dead husband, so I’ll leave you to it and try this again when you’re awake. Unless-“ She broke herself off there. _Unless I can get this fixed before you get up_. But she felt like she’d already made him a promise she couldn’t keep, not entirely. If Andy did come to work with her, it would be- Wonderful. Terrible. A lot of fun, and she’d be in perpetual agony, probably. _It didn’t bear thinking about, but God, did she want to._

She went into the bathroom to comb out her hair, pulled it into a wet bun, and then got dressed as quietly as possible not to disturb Joe.

Before leaving, Quynh paused at the door. Looking back over him on the bed, she added: “And if I _do_ manage to fix this, then, well.” She cleared her throat. Might as well be honest, if not to him, then at least to herself. “I think I know what favour I’m going to ask.”

* * *

Andy had misheard Quynh. She must have. For a moment, she really considered that Quynh had actually said “It’s a relief to know we’re convincing as a couple,” but that would be absurd.

No, this had to be like that time Nicky had tried to convince her to buy a Fiat Panda, of all cars. He’d been going on about the benefits of it for so long, how his granddad was still driving his after over thirty years, that even though Andy had never genuinely considered getting one, for weeks afterwards she kept seeing Fiat Pandas all over London, Nicky chanting “il pandino è immortale” in the back of her head.

Because Quynh wouldn’t actually suggest that Joe and her were only pretending to be a couple. No, Andy was thinking that because _she_ was supposed to be pretending to be in a couple.

But the more Andy turned the conversation they’d had over in her mind, and Quynh’s abrupt flight from the whirlpool, the less everything made sense. (Not that Andy blamed her for leaving, there was only so much research talk one could stand in a day.)

Only clearly Quynh had thought about something else entirely when she’d opened the conversation by saying that she’d overheard her and Joe, and Andy… Andy wanted to know what it was.

She told herself it was because she wanted to work with this woman, and the less misunderstandings you started a business relationship with, the better. But a not inconsiderable part of her also hoped, against all reason, that she hadn’t misheard.

_Still, only because a woman feeds you pears doesn’t make her gay._

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

Andy looked up at Dr Kozak, because apparently, she was still sitting in the whirlpool with her. Had she said that last bit out loud?

“I don’t know, Meta, I’m very sorry, I think all the steam has made me a bit tired. I’ll see you later at the announcement.”

“Ooh, yes! I feel like I’ve told you too much already, so don’t rat me out to Steven.”

“No worries,” Andy said, and climbed out the whirlpool. She didn’t feel the need to add that there was a negative probability of her having a voluntary conversation with Merrick.

No, she was going to get changed, and then she was going to find herself a treadmill or a punching bag in the gym and then hopefully, hopefully, she’d be able to think a little clearer when she had to face people again that evening.

In the treatment area, she passed Nile, who was talking to Sophie. “Hey Andy, you off?”

Andy nodded, and gave them a small wave.

“Quynh went that way,” Sophie said in a way that could easily have been casual, but sounded way too matter of fact for comfort.

She stopped in her tracks. “I’m sorry?”

“Were you not looking for her?” Sophie smiled sweetly, clearly recovered from her hangover. “Oh right, I suppose _Nicky_ will be back by now.”

Andy stared her. From the corner of her eye, she could see Nile having a go at hiding her smile, and then, very suddenly things clicked into place.

It was really quite simple, actually: Andy was going to kill Booker.

She was going to find him, and then she was going to shout at him, and then she would kill him. Although she wasn’t entirely sure what she’d expected from him.

“Right,” was all she said to Sophie and Nile, and then she stormed off to her room.

Nicky jolted awake when she threw open the door, but went back to sleep almost immediately after she apologised. She changed into her work out gear, but instead of heading to the gym, she marched out into the front garden until she could be sure that she was out of earshot from the manor. And then she called Booker.

“Hey Andy, what’s up?”

“Let me ask you that question,” she said. “What’s up with _you_ , Book, that is doesn’t even take a single day to break your promise?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

She begun to pace a little. “Yeah, I hope you’re sorry! So come on, spit it out, who have you told apart from obviously your wife and Nile?”

Booker sighed in what Andy assumed was recognition of his mistake. And it _had_ been a mistake for him, that much was sure.

“No one else, Andy, you have my word.”

“Yeah, believe it or not, that doesn’t actually hold that much sway right now.” She raked a hand through her hair. “Just… why, Book?”

He was silent on the other end of the line, and Andy’s patience had worn thin enough that all she really wanted to do was voice her frustrations with this weekend anyway.

“No, don’t answer that, I get it. This all very funny, I’m sure I’d find it funny, too, if not more or less everything about this weekend and what’s happened in the last two days had made me question every single decision I’ve made in the past year, and to learn that one of the few people I trusted at this god-forsaken company couldn’t even do me the _one_ favour I asked for _hurts_ , Book, it hurts.”

“I get that Andy, and I’m sorry, truly, I am. But I had the best intentions, I promise you.”

Andy crouched down next to an ornamental hedge and stared back at Hampton Manor. It was a beautiful place, in the way everything in the countryside looked beautiful once you drove out of London far enough. So why was she in half a mind to just nail her letter of resignation to the front door, pack her bags and book a plane ticket so she could go with Nicky to lie low in Italy for a while? Right, because by now she had unfinished business here.

Something clenched uncomfortably in her stomach, and she stood back up.

“That why Sophie is asking me suggestive questions about Joe’s wife?” She was so massively, massively pushing her luck.

“Ah, that,” Booker said, not sounding the least bit as sorry as he’d promised he was mere seconds before, “I think maybe you should just, you know. Talk to her.”

“To Sophie?”

“No,” Booker said, “To Quynh.”

* * *

Booker’s phone went off again approximately two seconds after Andy hung up. “I truly am sorry, Andy, but I can guarantee you Lykon or Merrick won’t find out.”

“What?”

“Oh. Hi Nile,” he said, pressing his fist to his forehead.

“Hey Book, Sophie and I were just talking about the dinner and the dance tonight and I had an idea for seating plans and-“

“I think maybe we should lay off the obvious meddling for a moment,” he interrupted her. “I don’t know what Sophie said, but at least Andy is on to us.”

“Oh,” Nile sounded a little deflated about that at first, before perking up again. “But that’s a good sign, right? If she knows then maybe she’ll talk to Quynh?”

“Let’s hope so. I’d just rather she not castrate me first.”

* * *

Quynh felt like she’d been looking everywhere for Andy when she finally spotted her from a window. She was standing next to one of the hedges marking the edge of the landscape garden, looking like she was about to go on a run.

Quynh looked down the two flights of stairs that separated her from the main entrance, and then at her shoes. They were great shoes, but they were not made for pursuit.

Hoping that Andy was going to stay in the confines of the landscape garden, Quynh gathered up the hem of her dress was on her way. There were a maybe a hundred yards between the manor and the garden, and when she reached the door she was glad to see that Andy had not broken into a run, but was instead striding back towards her.

Her short hair was still wet, like Quynh’s, and as she came closer, some drops fell onto her collarbones, running down her chest into her dark sports bra. The leggings she was wearing were high waisted but still showed her well-defined midriff as she moved like an ancient warrior and Quynh could feel her mouth go dry as she recalled the expanse of stomach she’d seen in the spa.

But this was not the time. Pulling herself together, she decided to meet Andy half-way. It would be better if they could speak away from everyone else, anyway.

The moment Andy spotted her, she faltered a little, like she wasn’t sure whether she was supposed to keep going, and Quynh’s heart picked up speed. Had Andy been looking for her, too?

Of course she had, Quynh hadn’t had a chance to say anything to her proposition yet, after she fled the whirlpool. It didn’t mean anything like _that_.

“Hi,” she said when they were close enough to speak, “Are you looking for me?”

Andy nodded. Her expression was oddly unreadable, not as warm as Quynh had gotten used to, but a small smile played around her lips regardless. “I think maybe we need to talk.”

“Finish what we started?” Quynh tried to laugh, make light of this very heavy phrase Andy had used, even as her hands grew jittery. So it wasn’t a fun thing to hear no matter the context, sue her. “Sorry for disappearing earlier, it was just-“

“Dr Kozak,” they both said at the same time, and then finally, Andy’s full smile broke out on her face.

“Shall we take a walk?” Quynh gestured to the landscape gardens. She’d been meaning to check them out anyway, and this would be a good enough excuse to marvel at some flowers while she tried to explain what on earth she was doing at this weekend in the first place.

Andy didn’t say anything as they walked into the garden, and Quynh tried not to look at her while there wasn’t any landscaping yet. She needed a clear head if she was going to speak first, and she _needed_ to fix this. She’d promised Joe, and she’d promised herself.

“I slipped up earlier,” Quynh began, “when you mentioned that you overheard me and Joe. I should have probably let you explain what you meant first before jumping to conclusions, but I guess I had a guilty conscience and was just waiting for someone to figure out that Joe and I aren’t actually married.”

Andy made a noise that sounded like she’d swallowed what could have been a high-pitched scream, but when Quynh looked at her, her face didn’t betray anything. Quynh turned back to the beautiful trimmed rose bushes next to her. _Focus_.

“I know this sounds very silly, and it is, I know, but up until about a day ago it seemed like a perfectly viable thing to do. We’re great friends, I enjoy a weekend in the countryside. Booker said Joe shouldn’t up to this without a plus one, and I don’t mind helping a friend who’s helped me so many times and will do it again and again in the future. Particularly if it comes with perks like this.”

She nodded towards the vast arrays of flower beds, bushes and trees and grass in front of them, looking magnificent even under classic version of an English sky: Overcast, with a hint of blue. Out of the corner of her eye, Quynh could see Andy smile.

“Booker said that, yeah?”

Quynh nodded. “Or so I’m told.”

Andy mumbled something that sounded like “Of course he did,” and Quynh smiled, waiting for Andy to add anything before she continued.

“But I just need you to know that this in no shape or form an attempt to scam Merrick Industries on Joe’s part. Or mine, but I mainly need you to know this about Joe. He’s here because this is an amazing opportunity for him that he didn’t want to miss out on just because he wasn’t dating anyone at the moment, and I’d feel terrible if you held that against him because of me. That’s- that’s what I was trying to tell you earlier, when I thought you were talking about him, but it’s still true.”

Quynh closed her eyes. _Deep breath_.

“Although now that I realise that that wasn’t actually what you were talking about, I just wanted to say that I was honoured, and if- if you still wanted to have that conversation I’d be more than happy to.” She let out a nervous chuckle. “I might just not tell Joe about it at first.”

Andy had stopped walking next to her, but she didn’t say anything until Quynh stopped to turn around and look at her. This was marginally more manageable now that the big things were out of the way, but she had no idea what to expect from the intensity of Andy’s gaze.

“Before I say anything, I just want to make sure we don’t talk at cross purposes again, so,” Andy started, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, “is that all? Was there anything else I need to know?”

 _When you look like this, I want to climb you like a tree._ But Quynh didn’t think Andy necessarily needed to know that. There was only so much emotional vulnerability she could deal with in any given day, and saying that to a woman in a relationship after everything that had happened would have crashed the scales. So she shook her head.

Andy let out a shaky breath that sounded a little like a laugh, but Quynh couldn’t tell, because she’d covered her face with her hands.

“I don’t believe this,” she said, looking at Quynh through her fingers, and then she started laughing in earnest.

“I’m sorry,” Quynh said, the ridiculousness of it all tugging at the corners of her mouth despite herself, “I know this sounds insane, but we-“

“No, Quynh, no,” Andy interrupted her, “that’s not why I’m laughing, it’s just-“ She took her hands off her face. “I’m in exactly the same position. Nicky is… many, many things to me, but he’s not my boyfriend, not my partner.”

Out of all the things that Quynh might have expected Andy to say to her confession, _this_ hadn’t even made the list.

“But then- _what_?” She felt like she needed a drink. Only not a drink. She felt like she needed some fresh air, only she was already outside. She felt like she needed to sit down.

“Let me explain,” Andy said, and then she did.

She told Quynh about her first experience with the _Partners Weekend_ the year before, when she had been like Quynh, only not at all. For one, she had actually been in a relationship with Lykon, and instead of making connections to take them to her company – she’d been taken in and hired by Merrick a month later. She told Quynh how her relationship with Lykon had fallen apart shortly after, not only because they suddenly worked in the same building, and how in a way, that may have been the first in a long line of events to take the sheen off Merrick Industries in Andy’s her eyes, “-which most recently, probably ends with you and Nicky pointing out the more than shoddy ethical practices Kozak and Merrick employ when it comes to getting their drugs to market.”

Andy shook her head, disbelieving smile on her face. “To think I could have just come with Joe when Merrick decided to guilt trip me into this! It would’ve spared us all so much trouble.”

Quynh smiled, but only with the parts of her that weren’t desperately trying to sort through all of her thoughts about this. She really needed to sit down. Why were there no benches in this garden? Suddenly, it seemed obvious that it had been landscaped by a maniac.

“You wouldn’t have met me though,” she said weakly.

“That’s true,” Andy agreed, “Who knows, maybe this godforsaken _Partners Weekend_ is my ticket into Merrick Industries _and_ out. Are you alright?”

Quynh nodded. Was there a word for when every single concern you’d had a moment ago had been erased in an instant only to be replaced with new ones? She couldn’t think of one in English or Vietnamese. The Germans probably had one, but she didn’t speak enough German to know if naming the feeling would help her deal with it.

“Are you sure?” Andy asked, and stepped closer to support Quynh’s arm. She pressed the back of her hand against Quynh’s forehead, which was soft and cool, and Quynh wanted to scream.

For about a moment, the maybe three seconds after Andy had said that Nicky wasn’t actually her partner, she’d lived in a little fantasy universe where this opened up all of the doors for her to give Andy the option to either go for a business lunch after this weekend was over – or make it a candlelit dinner. But then Andy had mentioned Lykon, the guy with the amazingly straight teeth Quynh remembered playing croquet with the day before, and had forcefully closed at least half those mental doors again.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Quynh said, and smiled at Andy, “just wondering how I’m supposed to explain this to Joe.”

Andy took her hand off her forehead, and for a moment, Quynh wondered if she might have left it there if she’d said anything else. At least knowing she was single, Quynh didn’t have to feel too guilty for enjoying these little things, these lingering glances anymore. They continued their way down the garden path.

“Do you think it might be better if you don’t tell him?” Andy asked.

“So I stop lying to you and I start lying to him?” Quynh laughed. “Or do you- Would you prefer if I didn’t tell him about this?”

She felt like Joe was a pretty safe option, he would never sell Andy out, particularly as he was in the same boat as her. But it would be a pretty stressful development all round, and if she told Joe about this, then- well. Then she’d also have to tell him how she came to find out in the first place.

“I’m not sure,” Andy said. She ducked under a rose bush, and the back of her hand brushed against Quynh’s, an electric jolt to her system. “I’ll leave it up to you.”

She’d been unsteady before, but now she was unmoored, walking through the roses with Andy like they were in a period film. It was picture perfect, if it wasn’t for the fact that Quynh wasn’t bold enough to take Andy’s hand. Had this been deliberate? She tried to read Andy’s eyes, but they were clear only in that they seemed to be asking a question, and Quynh had no idea what that question was. But she hoped, she hoped, she hoped she could still figure it out.

“Then let’s wait for now,” Quynh said when she could speak again. “I’m either going to tell you before I tell Joe – or it’s going to make for one hell of a story on the way back home.”

* * *

Joe woke up to a fuzzy feeling on his tongue and the remnants of a strange dream in the back of his head. In his dream, his tongue had only been heavy from kissing someone, his face obscure but familiar, and Joe only remembered the feeling of a heavy body on top of him. He knew who he’d _like_ it to be. In the dream he’d also become a father, which he’d been happy about and then devastated, because Quynh had shown up to take the baby away from him, saying he owed her the child as a favour. Maybe not such a happy dream after all.

He rolled over and squinted at the time on his phone, before swearing profusely and heaving himself out of bed. There was only one event this entire weekend that he wasn’t allowed to miss, that might be the missing key to a promotion, and it was this presentation with Merrick. Which was happening in less than an hour, and Joe looked like death warmed up. Worse than that, he felt like death warmed up, too, and when it came down to it, Joe was mainly vain about his inner beauty.

So he focussed on the shower, and a clean outfit, and skipped absolutely every other part of his regime apart from the beard oil. He might still have lines under his eyes as he skidded the floor to the meeting room Merrick was hosting this thing in, but he’d be dammed if he didn’t at least pull of a look somewhere on the… rugged and handsome scale.

“Ah, Yusuf, we were just about to send out a search troop,” Merrick said, and clapped his shoulder, “if you want to take a stand over there, I’ll get you on stage to say a few words about the art work before I make my announcement. Nothing long, I just want to get people in the mood for _Vetupraesidium_ a bit and I’ve been told you have a way with words.”

“Sure.” Joe nodded, and did as he was told. He cast his eyes around the room.

It was the same meeting room that Merrick had opened the _Partners Weekend_ in the day before, and it was again full of people. He spotted Quynh in their usual place, next to the door, although she’d clearly been able to replace him with Andy and Nicky in the meantime, who looked like they were flanking her. They were all looking at him with very different expressions on their faces, but they also all returned his smile eventually, and he relaxed.

He had this sorted out, he could do this.

Joe was, almost by nature, a pretty thoughtful person, which reflected in his designs. (And even if whatever Merrick was going to throw at him happened to be a rushed job Joe couldn’t remember, the nature of the work meant that it was almost infinitely bullshittable. But you didn’t hear that from him.)

“Hello everyone, I hope you’ve enjoyed today’s revels so far, but I’m glad you’re all here, because it is about to get truly exciting.”

Merrick was back at it again with the terrible pauses, but Joe was fine. He would be able to deal.

“Some of you will have been to Dr Kozak’s mini-lecture on some of the developments and the science behind our next product yesterday, and it is with great pleasure that I can today tell you that we are indeed about to launch a new product series! I’m reliably told the press team is all ready to go on Tuesday, when you’re all back in the office, but before the world knows about it, I’m telling you.”

Merrick clicked a button on his remote control to jump to the next slide in the presentation behind him, and the letters _Vetupraesidium_ arranged themselves in the classic cold blue and grey that was Merrick Industries’ branding on the screen behind him.

Joe knew the logo, because he had designed it, about three months before, when he hadn’t had any idea what it was for. But that hadn’t been the only thing.

And there, standing on that stage next to Merrick, he found Andy’s eyes across the sea of faces in front of him, and wasn’t surprised to find his own sudden onslaught of apprehension reflected in them.

They both had to remember what Joe remembered. And Joe could only speak for himself – but he had never assumed it was going to see the light of day.

A few months before, Joe had been running an errand at the office, when suddenly, Andy had poked her head out of a meeting room and said: “Hey. Are you the design guy?”

It had taken him a moment to realise she was speaking to him. “Uh. Yeah, one of them?”

“Great, get in here.”

You didn’t argue with a senior VP, and so he’d attended what appeared to be a board meeting about a new product, paired with a marketing campaign. Copley had been there, as head of external affairs, so Joe had sat next to him and not said a single word until Merrick had clapped his hands, clearly bored with the ongoing discussion, and said: “So. Models.”

“We’re not going to have time for organising a shoot under the timeline you’re envisaging,” Copley said, “but Andy just asked Yusuf to join us, who may be able to offer some alternatives.”

Copley had turned to Joe with the kind of smile that looked like he might as well had him at gun point.

“Uh. Yes,” Joe had said, “hello.” And then, because he realised everyone in the room had been looking at him like he was the only person who might get them out of this meeting with everyone’s pride and soul intact, and before the sun set, he’d said: “We could buy the rights to some portfolio image of models that don’t have ties to another brand or organisation yet. Might work best if we source some models who are no longer active, as well.”

The collective relief at a possible solution was palpable, until Merrick had leaned forward and asked: “So what would that potentially look like?”

Up until that point, Joe hadn’t actually ever experienced the infamous ‘Merrick-stare-of-doom’, but he’d immediately realised that he’d have done almost anything to stop the man’s eyes from virtually boring into his skull. So he’d done the only thing he could think of in that moment, which was to open up Quynh’s old portfolio website on his phone, and shoving it towards Merrick.

“Here,” he’d said, “we could buy a couple of the image rights, for example and then we’d be allowed to use them for our own promotional material.”

Merrick had flicked through Quynh’s images for a couple of seconds, Joe’s anxiety at not having his own phone in his hands rising steadily with every one of them.

“Great,” Merrick had finally said, “I want that one; make it happen, James. So we just need a man for the campaign as well. Any suggestions?”

Joe had not been entirely sure what had just happened at that point, only glad to have his phone back, and so had not known how to respond to any of the stares that travelled back over to him. The silence around the table had grown heavy, and all he had wanted to do was go back to his desk and never have to attend another board meeting in his life ever again.

“Well?” Merrick had said, picking out random people around the table to stare at, and this time, Joe had also felt the relief physically when Andy had finally rolled her eyes and shoved her tablet in Merrick’s direction.

“Not bad,” he’d said. “Get me that one, too, James, and have some mock-ups on my desk next Friday.”

There hadn’t been any other points on the agenda for the board meeting after that, and Joe had felt very confused, but glad that he was allowed to go back to his desk.

“Thank you,” Andy had said as she brushed past him, but it was Copley who caught up with him at his desk and said: “Listen, Joe, great job in there. I don’t know where you got these pictures from, but for now, let’s just use them as a working template and I’ll try and convince Merrick to organise our own shoot in the meantime. Can I ask you to do the mock-ups for next Friday?”

And Joe had nodded, and done the mock-ups, laughed about it with Quynh when he’d told her, and then promptly forgotten when Merrick had started floating ideas of a complete rebrand and given him a month-long project of updating and itemising all company design templates.

That was because Joe had not known then what he knew now. Standing on the stage behind Merrick, he cast a quick glance at Copley, who at least had the good grace to look apologetic. He’d not been successful in talking Merrick into doing their own shoot then.

Joe wanted to tear his hair out. He had a very visual memory. So when people looked familiar to him, there was _usually_ a reason. But no, he’d been too busy thinking it would make for a cheesy pick-up line instead of bothering to think of the obvious.

There had been a number of occasions over the past day when Joe felt like he could have prayed for a hole to open up in the floor and swallow him whole. But this? This warranted not just a hole, but preferably a wrecking ball of some sort that catapulted him straight into the sun.

“So without further ado, I’m handing over to Yusuf al-Kaysani, one of our designers, who is going to tell you a little bit more about the vision for _Vetupraesidium_.”

There was scattered applause across the room, but Joe barely heard any of it. He was staring at the presentation behind Merrick, and waited with bated breath as he flicked to the next slide. Then his heart sank. Because sure enough, there was his mock-up poster – and Quynh and Nicky staring back at him.

* * *

It took Nicky a moment to realise what he was looking at. His brain still wasn’t fully up to speed, and contemplating whether Joe had sprung from a fairytale with how effortlessly put together he looked even after a nap was about all he could manage. Nicky was also distracted thinking about his new baby niece, and then by the fact that he’d just learned Joe’s full name by listening to what he assumed was a terrible pronunciation of it.

But even when he _did_ figure out what he was looking at, it still didn’t make any sense. On the slide behind Joe was a picture of him, hair dishevelled, tie loose, that he vaguely recognised as one that was taken ten years before, when he’d done random modelling gigs to support himself through university. Only when that picture had been taken, he’d definitely been alone in it. Now, it looked like he was leaning against an armchair. And that armchair had Quynh in it.

He looked at the woman standing next to him but it still didn’t make any sense. Nicky was sure he had never met her before this, much less Joe, who was now talking about this picture like he was the one who had taken it. Only surely Nicky would have remembered if that was the case, and why wouldn’t they have told him if they’d known?

Andy caught his panicked stare after a moment, her eyes full of regret. _I’m sorry_ , she mouthed _, I didn’t know_.

And then, things began to click into place. Nicky closed his eyes, and wondered how rude it would be if he just left right that instant.

There was always a risk in selling images of yourself, of course, but he felt like there should be something he’d be able to do against having his _own face_ associated with a big pharma product that he couldn’t feel less apprehensive about. Only who knew what kind of dodgy contracts he’d signed in his early twenties. He’d been young, he hadn’t cared, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have been able to imagine being in _this_ particular situation if he’d tried.

Nicky took a deep breath and tried to focus on Joe’s words to calm himself down.

“…So the vision for this product, in essence something that is going to improve cognitive decline and cell regeneration, was trying to capture a certain timelessness. It’s asking the question, what does human accomplishment look like if you take time out of the equation?” Joe smiled, an image of self-assurance, but Nicky heard doubt creep into his voice, the waver of someone saying something they’d stopped to believe in. He’d been there himself more than once. So when Joe looked over at him and their eyes met, he offered him a smile in encouragement. “And now, I’m aware how this sounds given that the image features my wife,” Joe allowed time for the audience to chuckle, but he didn’t look away from Nicky, “but alongside that, we’re trying to portray the concept of immortal beauty, and I think we found individuals who capture that. Thank you very much.”

Nicky had to swallow hard around the lump that had suddenly formed in his throat, unable to join in the applause spreading through the room. It was a sweet thing to say, and Nicky could tell Joe had charmed half the room with this comment about Quynh.

Only he’d not said it to her.

Joe had said it to Nicky, the other person in the picture. And Nicky was amazing at overthinking. Jumping to conclusions, as well, he truly was. But what was he supposed to make of _that_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bisexuality is a blessing and a curse, but at least SOME of the misunderstandings are out of the way now, right? Right??
> 
> (Truth be told, I was a bit apprehensive about leaving it there and just posting this chapter, because I felt like THIS is the one that's finally going to send some people to come after me with pitchforks. I'm very sorry, but much like Booker, I also don't regret anything, so I'll just have to live with your wrath until the next update.)


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we go to the ball! (and revisit some bathrooms and broom cupboards).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written (apart from, y'know, this whole fic), so please enjoy 10,000 words of ballroom silliness.

“Thank you, thank you, Yusuf, some lovely thoughts there,” Merrick said, swooping back onto the stage as Joe left it with a nod.

Andy was slowly scanning the room, trying to give anyone staring at Nicky or Quynh an evil glare. This was her version of damage control for what had been a uniquely mortifying moment in her career.

She’d completely forgotten about this picture after Copley had assured her that it wasn’t going to go anywhere. And Copley was one of the few people who usually had his shit together, so she had trusted him, but clearly, this weekend was coming at her with a bit of a precedent.

“But that is not all! I am telling you now that _Vetupraesidium_ is going to revolutionise modern healthcare. Not just healthcare, life as we know it will be forever changed. And that is why tomorrow I am giving you all the opportunity for a free consultation with Dr Kozak or another member of _Merrick Industries_ ’ very own medical team to find out how this drug can improve your life as well. It is my very own way of saying thank you for all that you’re doing for Merrick Industries, and making sure that our partnership is… long lived.”

Applause erupted again, and Quynh leaned over to her. “Didn’t Kozak tell us human trials for this weren’t even signed off yet?”

Andy couldn’t remember. She remembered Dr Kozak talking about something relating to human trials, and some sort of hormone, but she’d been sitting in a whirlpool with Quynh about half a foot away from her, so she felt like it should be excused. But even without remembering that much, she knew that _something_ was not right with this drug.

She tried to communicate this to Quynh by dragging down the corner of her mouth, then looked over to Nicky.

He was normally quietly expressive, and this time was no different, only that Andy had no idea what was going on with his face. Concern, yes, but a swirl of other emotions she couldn’t unpick. She really should check in with him.

“Thank you very much,” Merrick concluded his talk, “and now I’d like you to don your best frocks, and I will see you for dinner and the chamber dance!”

* * *

People had no sooner stopped clapping that Nicky bolted from the meeting room, going straight for the bathroom he’d hidden in the day before. Why leave it at the nicest bathroom he’d ever had a breakdown in, when it could be the bathroom he’d had most of his breakdowns in?

He’d barely been able to focus while Merrick announced his vaguely immoral little thank-you programme – what kind of company offered unlicensed pharmaceutical products to its employees like they were appetisers? – as his mind replayed the last words Joe had said on that stage over and over. He was a handsome man, but the effect of his dark brown eyes together with his voice, still slightly raspy from either alcohol or sleep, had been nothing short of _devastating_ on Nicky.

And Nicky was… smart, and liked to think he had his life pretty well together, usually, but it turned out, he was also _only human_. And that, apparently, meant being able to be brought to the point of incoherency by Yusuf al-Kaysani.

Earlier, when Keane had disappeared and they’d stopped laughing and helped each other up again, Joe had placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, looked him in the eyes and said: “Hey, man. Thank you. I think you may have saved my life there, you’ve definitely got something good with me.”

And Nicky was pretty sure a solid minute had passed before he’d been able to speak, and then only enough to say: “Of course. But you’ve already kept me warm this morning.”

At Joe’s confused stare, he’d only shrugged out of his jacket and given it back, not trusting his own mouth to produce something that wasn’t an incredibly inane statement.

Nicky sat down on the closed toilet seat and placed his head in his hands.

“Nicolò,” he told himself, in a voice that he imagined his mother might use if she were scolding him, “he is married. Married! You hear?” _But then why does he keep looking at me like-_ “And nothing he says or does changes that. You don’t need this in your life, that way lies trouble.”

He was shut up by a short knock on the door.

“Nicky, are you in there?” It was Andy. “Is everything okay?”

He grunted in response, knowing that Andy probably understood more from that sound than if he’d tried to put it in words.

“Can I come in?”

“The door is open,” he said, and Andy stepped into the bathroom, then sat on the sink.

“Hey,” she said.

Nicky sat back up and leaned against the cistern. It was uncomfortable, but maybe that’s what he needed right now. “Hey.”

“Nicky, I need to apologise,” Andy said. “I had no idea your picture was going to be used for this shit, I was told it was for a mock-up.”

The images would have been next on his internal meltdown checklist, so he wasn’t sure if he was glad that Andy had already brought them up.

“It’s okay,” he said.

Andy bit her lip as she studied him, then shook her head. “I’m not sure about that. There’s been a number of issues I’ve noticed over the past couple of days. Quynh’s told me that she has some serious concerns about how above-board this product is, and I’m having some serious doubts about… Merrick Industries as a whole, I guess.”

Nicky wasn’t usually like this, but he’d barely finished the thought before he started speaking this time: “Oh. So Quynh convinces you within a day, but you couldn’t listen to me about any of the issues about big pharma I pointed out before you signed with them last year?”

Andy looked down to where her feet were dangling a few centimetres off the floor. “Nicky, I’m so sorry. I-”

He could tell that she was getting ready for a longer apology, but he was already sorry for having brought it up. Exhaustion and exasperation were a cocktail that could wear even on his patience. “It’s okay, I didn’t mean to gripe, it’s not a big deal. I’m glad you’ve come to this conclusion, no matter how you’ve arrived at it.”

Andy shook her head and drew in a ragged breath, which was a stronger response than he’d expected. “No, Nicky, it’s not okay, and you have every right to be pissed off. I’ve been a shitty friend, probably for a while now, and I don’t really have an excuse for it anymore, either. I split from Lykon _months_ ago, and here I am, still making idiot decisions because of him and dragging you into this whole mess with me.” She pulled her hands through her hair. “God, I can tell you’re having a terrible time here, and I’m so sorry that I ever asked you to come, it was such a stupid thing to do. I should have probably quit the moment Merrick even mentioned the thing and then we could have both spent the weekend with Mia and Paolo instead of listening to a megalomaniac trying to peddle a miracle cure like some quack doctor.”

“A miracle cure with my face on it.”

Andy laughed wetly, and Nicky got up from the toilet. “That, too.”

He beckoned for her to get off the sink so he could pull her into a hug. “Hey, Andy. I meant it when I said it’s okay.”

He thought of all the times he’d put his foot in it over the past day and a half, but when he wilfully ignored those, what stayed was: Nile high-fiving him playing croquet, Booker getting him drinks and telling terrible jokes, the crinkles around Joe’s eyes when he laughed and the sun rising between his curls, and then possibly the best text message he’d ever gotten from his sister.

“I’m actually sort of enjoying this weekend.”

“Really?” Andy pulled away, but left her hand on his neck.

“Really,” Nicky said, and smiled at her. “Speaking of Mia and Paolo by the way. Do you want to see the first pictures of Elena?” 

* * *

Quynh looked _great_. And she knew that.

She was wearing a strapless gown in a deep red that did just enough to emphasise her petite waist before ballooning into a gigantic skirt that she could hide an entire purse in. (Or a flask, depending on what kind of evening it was going to be.)

Joe’d pressed his hand to his chest when she’d finally stepped out of their bathroom, and said: “I could not have asked for a prettier wife.”

“I think it needs repeating, I don’t think the _entire_ personnel at Merrick Industries know yet,” she’d replied, a little terse, and he’d apologised again before linking their arms together and leading her down the stairs into the dining hall.

When she’d picked what to wear for this evening, she’d thought it’d be a good idea if her and Joe visibly matched – that was a suitably straight thing, wasn’t it? – and she’d talked him into wearing a read paisley waistcoat, but now she wished she’d toned it down just a little bit. After Joe’s little speech earlier, there really wasn’t any need to remind people that they were married. Maybe they were actually being a bit _too_ on the nose now, if all the smiles and attention they were getting were anything to go by.

The dining hall looked different than it did the day before, the tables arranged in a circular weaving pattern rather than rows and the chandeliers were on full capacity, making the room brighter than it was the day before. For some reason, she had assumed that Joe and her were going to be seated with Andy and Nicky again, but after consulting the seating chart, it turned out they were with Copley and his wife, Anja, instead. Nicky and Andy were at the next table over, with Booker and Sophie.

“Oh, I’m so happy we’ve been seated with you,” Anja told them the moment they sat down, “I would love to hear more about the work you do at Merrick Industries, James can always be so cagey. Also can I just say, that speech was one of the most romantic things I have seen in my life.”

Quynh shared a quick glance with Joe, but didn’t go as far as raising her eyebrow.

“Oh, that’s sweet of you,” she said instead, “I know I am very lucky.”

“Oh, for certain,” Anja said. And Quynh knew that she was probably a perfectly pleasant woman, who was just working her way up to asking politely after more anecdotes of their great romantic love life. But it was going to be a _long_ dinner.

* * *

When Booker had told Nile to ease off the meddling, he for some reason hadn’t assumed that she was going to backtrack on the changes she’d made the night before. It somehow made it _more_ obvious that there had been changes in the first place.

He didn’t try to keep track, but so far, Andy had ‘accidentally’ kicked him under the table around fifteen times, making deliberately little small talk while a distracted Nicky shared recipes with Sophie.

Following his own thoughts, Booker hadn’t really noticed the silence that had enveloped their table until Sophie leaned over to him and whispered in French: “Joe is the only one of them who speaks French, right?”

Booker nodded. “Maybe speak a little faster just to be sure, though.”

“This is ridiculous,” Sophie said, and poked her fork through a piece of carrot in a way that could be interpreted as pointing to Andy and Nicky, who both seemed to be more preoccupied at what was happening at the table behind Booker and Sophie. He didn’t even need to turn to know who was sitting there. “Why are they both pretending like we’re not even here?”

“I think Andy’s still mad at me,” Booker said, and as if she’d understood, she accidentally stepped on his foot a sixteenth time. He tried not to wince. He wasn’t really sure what exactly she still had to be mad about if things were going to plan, but he tried not to be too obtuse. Castration might still have been on the table.

Sophie sighed, but there was a twinkle in her eye. “Why is she mad at you for a little bit of help? Diversion? I do not understand these people, Sebastien.”

“I know, _cherie_ ,” he said, and squeezed her knee through her dress under the table. Nudging Andy with his foot, he switched back to English and asked: “Did you manage to speak to Quynh earlier?”

Andy’s gaze snapped back to him. “Yes.”

 _Ah_. So that was how it was going to be.

“And?” Booker drew the syllable out.

“And what?”

Now, Andy was a private person. A very private person. A person who’d probably succeed in not sharing personal information if she had a gun pressed to her head. But if the way Nicky had started to look back and forth between her and Booker was anything to go by… nothing had been resolved yet.

“ _C’est incroyable_ ,” Sophie muttered.

Andy was still giving him the irritated eyebrows, but he was saved from replying by Merrick, who chose that moment to knock his glass with his spoon to make an announcement.

“Good evening everyone, I hope you’re having a great time. Please do take your time to finish your meals, but as we’re about to embark on our chamber dance, I just wanted to use a moment to go over the ground ‘rules’ for the evening, as it were.

“There’ll be around twenty dances and we encourage everyone to choose widely between dance partners and not dance with the same person twice, to make some connections with our Partners’ partners – if you’ll pardon the pun – as well. The one exception to that rule is the first and last dance, both of which you should have with the person you came here with.

“But don’t let me keep you from dessert, and I will see you in the ballroom shortly!”

Booker looked at his half-finished lemon meringue pie and turned to Sophie. One of the straps of her off-white dress had slipped of her shoulder, and for a moment, he was reminded of their wedding day. He smiled at the memory, then got up and offered her his arm: “M’lady?”

She laughed and accepted his arm, waving to Andy and Nicky. “See you on the dancefloor!”

* * *

The latest addition to the increasingly long line of things Andy should not find surprising at all, was the fact that Joe and Quynh could _dance._ And not just “move around the floor in a vaguely aesthetically pleasing way” dancing – although there was a lot of that going on as well – but full on capital B, capital D, _Ballroom Dancing_. The kind of thing you’d expect a married couple to maybe pick up once the children were out of the house, and they suddenly had to fill the time with something.

 _Fuck, they’re good at this_. Not just the dancing, although it was hard to tear her eyes away from that for a number of reasons, but also the general… pretending to be a couple thing. From Joe casually feeding Quynh canapes to twirling her across the dancefloor, Andy realised that the two of them probably put some thought into this whole charade.

 _Unlike_ her and Nicky. Otherwise she maybe would have spent a moment longer deciding what to wear for what was effectively a ball and not gone with a suit again, when it had already gotten her concerned stares the year before.

The dance was happening in the hall on the ground floor of Hampton Manor, a live band had been hired to play music that she’d probably identify as modern classical, and the glass doors to the back garden had been thrown wide open to help with the acclimatisation, because it was only the first dance, and it was already unspeakably warm in the room. Or maybe that was what she got for watching Quynh’s lithe figure duck under Joe’s arm then twirl once, twice, with a precision that drew attention to the delicate muscles in her back.

“Andy, can you please stop stepping on my toes?” Nicky asked.

She sighed. It was a fair request. Putting her back into it, she turned them around so that she was facing away from Quynh and Joe. It was a lot more boring to dance that way, but at least she could concentrate on where to put her limbs.

She smiled at Nicky, but he wasn’t looking at her. Instead, there was a slow but steady crease appearing between his eyebrows.

When he looked at her again, his whole face had shifted into an expression that she decidedly wasn’t a fan of. He turned them around again.

“Can you explain the thing with Quynh to me?” he asked. His tone was neutral, but carefully neutral in the way only Nicky managed. It meant that what he was saying and what he was thinking were already three steps removed.

This was reason enough to worry. It didn’t even begin to cover how little she was able to answer the question. So Andy yanked him around again, so she could look back at the wall.

Nicky rolled his eyes at her.

“Come on Andy,” he sighed, “I just want to know what Booker meant earlier when he asked if you spoke to Quynh.”

He turned them around again, just in time for Andy to see Quynh laughing open-mouthed at something Joe had just said. She would have rolled her eyes if it hadn’t been so adorable.

How childish would it be, if she just twisted them again and again until she could properly evade Nicky’s question? If there was one thing she was really good at, she’d realised, it was evading questions. Particularly her own.

But she _had_ been a shitty friend to Nicky, and even if he said it was okay, she wanted to be better. Had to be.

She took one last look at Quynh, her hair flying behind her, and turned Nicky around again. “I need you to promise not to tell anyone else.”

Nicky turned them around. “Okay.”

Andy turned them around. “No, promise.”

Nicky turned them around. “I promise not to tell anyone whatever you’re about to tell me. What did Booker mean?”

Andy turned them around. She sighed. It wasn’t going to get much more confusing just because Nicky knew as well. “Quynh and Joe-“ Nicky turned them around again, and she rolled her eyes. “they’re also not a couple.”

The crease between Nicky’s eyebrows deepened, and she turned them again.

“As in, they’re like us,” Andy whispered, “they’re also faking it.”

Andy would have expected Nicky to twist them around again, but instead he full on flung the two of them into one of high tables that were lining the dance floor, and they sprung apart quickly to make sure it didn’t topple over. She vaguely recognised the waiter who’d been on the way to help them as the same one who’d cleaned up her mess after she’d smashed her glass the day before, but once he saw her face, he quickly retreated.

Andy sighed. One look at Nicky was enough to determine that this news had for some reason hit him harder than a brick wall, and there was little point resuming whatever poor excuse for a first dance they’d been executing so far. So she shuffled over to the bar, ordered two beers and plopped down next to Nicky on the barstools that came with the table.

Nicky was still looking in Quynh’s and Joe’s direction like he was trying to work out the answer to a particularly fiendish maths problem. Andy could get on board with staring at them.

“Depending on how benevolent I’m feeling,” she offered, “I think Booker just happened to know and didn’t want us to feel like we were the only ones.”

Nicky lifted one shoulder in half a shrug. “The only question is, how did Booker know about this in the first place though?”

“Them? Joe told him, I imagine,” Andy said, then leaned forward to prop her chin up on her hands.. As for themselves, she chose to go with only half of the truth: “And us? I’d love to say I have no idea. But I’m beginning to think we make a terrible couple.”

* * *

About an hour into the evening, Joe was ready to keel over. Quynh and him liked to go dancing, whether it was in clubs or at casually organised balls in London, and if there was one thing he knew, it was that it needed stamina.

None of which he had after only an afternoon of catching up on sleep. Instead, he was running on adrenaline from the little speech he’d given earlier. Every time another person approached him – although who was he kidding, it was usually yet another woman who wanted to dance with him – and said “Your speech earlier-“ and then pressed their fingers over their heart, he felt a jolt of nerves.

So far he’d been told he was the most romantic man alive in more ways than he could begin to count, but it was the anticipation of someone, anyone, pointing out that he hadn’t strictly speaking been talking about his wife, that had him on edge.

“Ah, Joe,” Booker sidled up to him once he’d made it to the bar without being ambushed by someone who dragged him back onto the dance floor. “How many women have you slipped you their phone numbers on little cards into your back pocket yet?”

“Oh, don’t you start,” Joe groaned, and placed his forehead on the bar. It was so cool. It was so nice. He should stay there for the rest of the night. Escape the shame and the misdirected interest.

 _What had he been thinking?_ Nothing, that was what. He’d just gotten stuck on Nicky’s face and run on autopilot. Good to know his autopilot was some sort of incurable romantic, but it really needed to learn how to pick its moments.

Booker placed a beer in his hand. Some things were never going to change. Just to humour him, Joe reached into the little pocket lining his ass, and poked a finger in there.

“I’ll be damned,” he said, and held up the slips of paper he found there. Three women _had_ actually slipped him their numbers. And he thought they’d only gotten a bit enthusiastic on the Latin dances. “But why?”

Booker shrugged. “Some things never change. Do you know why the _Partners Weekend_ exists?”

Joe shook his head. He’d never really contemplated whether Merrick had just come up with it as a corporate torture device, or, if as he said, this was genuinely his idea of saying thank you.

“In the first couple of years of Merrick Industries, the Partners Weekend was just an elaborate away day for all employees,” Booker said, casting his eyes around the dancing couples, “there were a lot less of them at the time, of course. Only you know how it is with City firms, people being away from all responsibilities for some time, and well, what can I say. Apparently it turned into a massive hook-up fest.”

“Because everyone was single and in their early twenties?”

Booker turned to look at Joe with raised eyebrows. Joe was never going to understand.

“The only problem apparently was that while everyone seemed thrilled with the idea of cheating on their partners’ at home, not all that many people seemed to be too thrilled to do that with Merrick,” Booker continued, “Apart from maybe Keane. And so, before long, Merrick decided to make it a _Partners Weekend_ , meaning he could stop inviting people who snubbed him and make it harder for people to cheat on their spouses.”

Joe drew out his exhale. “I can’t even tell whether I might think Merrick’s actually had a good idea there for once.”

“Maybe.” Booker tapped the three telephone numbers Joe had left on the bar. “But like with so many of his ideas… it’s not exactly working, is it?”

* * *

Andy knew she had a bit of a reputation for being scary and abrasive – having a massive fall out with your partner who also happened to be a VP will do that for you. But it was definitely coming in handy when all it took to stop someone from even so much as breathing in her direction, much less ask her to dance, was a glare.

Since the first dance with Nicky, she’d set up at a table close to the bar, but with the patio doors to the garden just behind her. This way, she could feel a gentle evening breeze in her hair as she alternated between watching the dancers and the musicians.

“How do you do it?”

Andy startled a little when Quynh threw herself into the chair next to hers. No one had managed to sneak up on her like that yet.

“Do what?” she asked.

Quynh reached for a programme on the table to fan herself some air. She leaned her head back, eyes closed, mouth open and Andy watched as a single bead of sweat dripped down her throat. She wondered what it would taste like, if she put her mouth there.

“Avoid the dancing!” Quynh cracked an eye open, smile around her lips, “I haven’t seen you dance at all, while the rest of us are getting our feet run ragged by this insatiable band.”

Andy had her face propped up on her fist, and she could feel the push of her cheek against it as she began to smile.

“Aw, poor baby,” she said to Quynh, “but I don’t think it’s the band you need to worry about, it’s the other dancers.”

“So you’re just avoiding each and every dancer?”

“Correct,” Andy said, “it’s impossible to survive an evening of dancing without taking breaks.”

Quynh rolled her eyes, but helpfully didn’t point out that Andy hadn’t danced all evening. She gestured to a waiter, who looked apprehensively at Andy even though she was sure she hadn’t seen that one yet, and asked him for a wine spritzer.

“I think someone should’ve shared your survival tips with our _partners_.” Quynh nodded towards Joe and Nicky on the dance floor, but Andy couldn’t take her eyes of her. “They’re in very high demand tonight.”

Andy snorted. “I think that’s probably because one of them is now effectively the face of a hot new drug, and your _husband_ has declared himself the most romantic guy alive. So I feel sorry for Nicky, but the rest is on Joe.”

Quynh laughed again, head thrown back, and Andy really should stop looking. A waiter brought Quynh’s spritzer and she downed nearly half of it before staring wistfully out at the dancers again.

“He really is though, you know,” she said. “Just, obviously, not usually with me.”

Andy finally managed to tear her eyes away from Quynh and looked to where Joe was dancing with Copley’s wife, seemingly effortlessly turning her around the room while still able to make conversation. She would not be surprised if more than a few relationships were on the rocks after this evening.

“Did you ever try?” Andy found herself asking. “With Joe?”

Quynh snorted, and took another gulp of her drink. “No.”

The ‘why not?’ was on Andy’s tongue, but it seemed an awful lot like prying, and she wondered, deep down, if she really wanted to know.

“He seems like a great guy,” was what she settled on instead, deliberately vague, okay for Quynh to ignore. But Quynh didn’t.

“He is, he is,” she said, “but we’re just not… compatible that way.”

She smiled at Andy in a way that made Andy set her glass down very quickly. She had a vivid recollection of crushing one clean through and she wasn’t keen on repeating the experience. She might actually need the help of one of the waiters in the future.

Andy sat on her hand to make sure they wouldn’t shake as she stole glances at Quynh. Because Andy had played this game before. She knew what phrasing something this way could mean. It could be a quick and easy way to infer someone else’s identity. It could be a way to hint at your own preferences. But only if Quynh was playing the game as well, otherwise it was just-

Andy’s thoughts were interrupted by the song coming to an end, dancers and bystanders weaving around them to form new couples. Both Joe and Nicky also appeared to use the opportunity to pry themselves away from more willing dance partners, and made their way over to where Andy and Quynh were sitting.

“Time to act like we are though,” Quynh murmured for Andy’s ears only, before breaking into a wide grin and throwing her arms around Joe as he sat down next to her.

It was, Andy could tell, a bit much even by Joe’s standards. And the situation was not helped by the fact that apart from him, everyone at the table knew that there was no need really, if Nicky’s concerned stare was anything to go by.

Andy sighed. She’d always prided herself on being unaffected by awkward silences, but this one was making her head hurt.

How was she supposed to come back from this? She had no idea. Her best plan at the current rate was to corner Joe on their first day back in the office, bully him into having lunch with her, make him swear an oath that he wasn’t going to say anything to anyone, _ever_ , and then come clean. Maybe ask some more clarifying questions around Quynh’s preferences before starting something she was already in way over her head for.

Nile sauntered over to their table in a dress of such terrifying orange, Andy wasn’t sure anyone else in the room would have been able to pull it off, but you had to give it to her: She was one confident young woman.

“Hi y’all,” she said, then turned to Quynh. “I love your dress, it’s so pretty.”

“And yours,” Quynh said, “but thank you, Joe picked it for me.” She was _really_ committed to that whole most romantic couple in the room thing. Andy couldn’t resist raising her eyebrows at Quynh when she looked her way.

Nicky cleared his throat. “Do you want to dance, Nile?”

“I’d love to,” she replied, and dragged Nicky away to the dancefloor. There were days when Andy really missed having heaps of youthful energy. Right then she wondered if she ever quite had that much energy to begin with.

“Are you going to dance, Andy?” Copley had appeared at their table and smiled up at her.

Andy gave him a level stare. “Is this you asking?”

Something in her eyes must have communicated that the only correct answer to that questions was ‘no’, because Copley’s smile vanished slowly and he rapped his knuckles on the table in front of him before awkwardly turning to Joe and Quynh.

“Joe, sorry, I didn’t get a chance earlier, but I just wanted to thank you for stepping in with the presentation at such short notice, I know you didn’t have a lot of prep from me-“ Judging by Joe’s face, ‘not a lot’ translated to ‘none at all’ in this scenario, “so it’s hugely appreciated.”

It was quite the feat to make a thank you sound like an apology, Andy had to admit. Joe didn’t look particularly thrilled by the whole thing, but let a smile creep onto his face after Quynh gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Not a problem, James,” he said and Andy hoped that Copley would at the very least find the time to make a case for Joe’s promotion after all this. Although with the launch of _Vetupraesidium_ imminent, she was sure she’d have to remind him in a month’s time or so.

“Are you still looking to dance?” Quynh smiled at Copley and offered up her hand. “I’m sure we can find some more of Joe’s accomplishments to talk about.”

Copley smiled in a way that suggested he knew exactly what Quynh was doing, but that he was charmed by it regardless. “Gladly,” he said, and led her away.

On the way to the dancefloor, Quynh turned around to wink at Joe and gave him a thumbs up where Copley couldn’t see it.

Andy laughed. “She’s brilliant,” she said before she could help herself.

“I know,” Joe replied, smiling. “I don’t know what I’d do without her to be honest.”

A catty comment like “I hope she knows this,” was on the tip of Andy’s tongue, but she didn’t let it get further than that. It wasn’t Joe’s fault that Quynh was a wonderful friend, and it definitely wasn’t his fault that Andy felt an irrational jealousy at what they had, bizarrely more so now that she knew they weren’t actually married.

“How long do you think we have until we get ambushed for another dance?” she asked instead, and drained her glass.

Joe looked at a point over her shoulder. “Maybe two seconds?”

“Joe!” It was Sophie, Booker in tow, who bowed down to give Joe a kiss on each cheek. “Joe, Booker promised me you’d dance with me.”

Joe laughed. “Oh, did he now? How kind of him.”

“I know, so very kind. But I don’t feel too bad about it, I know you enjoy dancing more than, well, _most_ of the men here.”

Joe rolled his eyes, but let himself be pulled up by her regardless. “Guilty as charged. Lead on, Sophie.”

Andy followed them with her eyes as they joined the other dancers, before her eyes landed on Booker’s again.

He opened his mouth, but she interrupted him. “Don’t even-“

Booker laughed. “I was just going to ask what you’re drinking.”

* * *

“Are you having a good evening?” Nile asked Nicky as they were dancing. The music was fairly upbeat, but Nicky had slowed them down to something closer to a sway.

“Me? Oh, yes,” he said, but looked almost sheepish. “Just so tired. And working through some stuff.”

“Oh no, what’s up?”

“Oh, don’t worry, no bad news,” Nicky said, and she cautiously followed his gaze to where Quynh was dancing with Copley, then to Joe and Sophie. “Just… a surprise, I guess. Trying to make my mind up what to think.”

 _Well, well, well._ Nile smiled, and twirled herself under his arm. “I’m sure whatever it is, the answer is more straightforward than you think.”

Nicky snorted a little laugh. “Let’s hope so.”

* * *

Sophie leaned close to whisper in Joe’s ear while they were dancing. “I will say this: It is crazy how all these women can dance with you and leave still thinking you might be straight. Absolutely wishful thinking. A straight man will either dress well or be a good dancer, they don’t give us both.”

Joe threw his head back and laughed. “You know that’s not a requirement to be gay, right Sophie? They let you in even if you have two left feet and dress like one of the Muppets.”

 _Especially if you dressed like one of the Muppets_ , he thought about adding, but Sophie wasn’t looking at him anymore, her gaze focussed somewhere over his left shoulder.

“Yeah,” she added pensively, “funny that.”

* * *

It had happened. Booker had left Andy at the table, and after she’d finished her drink, none of the waiters had come back to bring her another one.

She suspected it was not because she looked super drunk, but she didn’t want to think they were _that_ inattentive whenever she tried to make eye contact with one of them. _Honestly, you drop one glass_.

So she heaved herself up from her bar stool and marched over to the bar, where she would be a lot harder to ignore.

“I’ll have a Vodka Lime Soda, please,” Andy said to the barkeeper.

It was a small miracle, actually, that out of all the people who’d _nearly_ approached her that evening, Copley was the only one who’d actually gotten as far as speaking to her. She would have expected Merrick and his weaselly ways to make an appearance at one point. (She still had nightmares from dancing with him the year before.) Not even Lykon had come by to gloat, which she had to say, she was actually glad about. It would have been a very disappointing experience to find out she couldn’t only be goaded into coming to this stupid weekend, but also to dancing with him again.

“Aww, thank you.”

Andy perked up at the sound of Quynh’s voice, but realised she’d just overheard her speaking to Joe, who had just handed her another wine spritzer. They were sitting on the other side of the bar, their backs to her, and Andy looked away as quickly as she’d looked up.

“Are you having a good evening at all?” Joe asked Quynh.

Andy should walk away. She should bribe the bartender into mixing her drink faster and then she should walk away.

“Eh.” Quynh shrugged. “Could be better.”

Joe laughed fondly. “I know, I know. Could be better company.”

Or Andy could start a conversation with the barkeeper. Something just taxing enough that she wouldn’t be able to follow along what Quynh and Joe were saying. Only how did you have a conversation like _that_ with a barkeeper?

“You read my mind,” Quynh replied, nudging Joe, and he put an arm around her shoulders.

“Don’t worry,” Joe said to Quynh. He dropped his voice, but it was still impossible for Andy to tune out.

“Here you go.” The barkeeper placed her vodka in front of her.

“Thank you,” she said, and closed her fingers around the glass. She should just pick it up and go, just leave, before she could hear Joe say- “Next weekend, I’ll take you dancing somewhere not nearly as nice as here, but I won't complain while you make out with every pretty girl in the room.”

Andy didn’t hear what Quynh said in response, because she had dropped her glass.

 _Not again_ , she’d thought, then dove after it to hide behind the bar. She could practically taste her heartbeat, not sure whether to focus on praying that neither Joe nor Quynh were going to come investigate, or the thoughts rushing through her mind trying to evaluate whether she had definitely heard right this time and it wasn’t just going to be the cause for another misunderstanding. _Girls_ , she thought _,_ _he said she kisses-_

“You alright down there?” The barkeeper poked his head over the bar.

“Fine,” Andy croaked. “Any chance you can make me another one of these?”

By the looks of it, she was not just going to have a much harder time getting served by waiters from now on.

* * *

Nicky checked his watch and wondered when they were going to announce the last dance. He was _tired_ with the kind of exhaustion he could feel in his bones, but also keyed up on a strange adrenaline high that kept kicking back in whenever he briefly remembered what Andy had told him. Which was almost constantly, when he heard Joe’s laugh as he twirled someone around the dancefloor or saw the swish of Quynh’s hair over her dress in the corner of his eye.

 _They’re like us, they’re also faking it_.

It was like reality had rearranged around him, and he was left trying to look at every interaction from the last day or so with this new knowledge, assess if it changed anything. And if so, what?

Only he never seemed to have enough time to himself to actually _think_ about anything, the people and the noise and the dancing weighing his brain down.

He’d reached a point where all he wanted to do was crawl under a duvet and sleep until it was time to drive to the airport, but Nicky didn’t want to stand Andy up for the last dance.

It was past eleven. _Surely_ this couldn’t go on much longer.

“Ah, Nicolò, was it?” Dr Kozak was pushing towards him, and Nicky felt his shoulders tense. “Are you resting or you still open for dancing?”

He looked at her incredulously. Why would this woman of all people want to dance with him? Nicky knew he had to come up with _something_ to tell her that would let her down gently, because he did not have the strength left to listen to her or any of the things she could possibly have to say about Merrick Industries’ products. At least, not unless he wasn’t going to be held accountable for his actions.

“Uhm-,” he started, but he needn’t have worried.

“Nicky?” Quynh showed up behind Dr Kozak and winked at him. “Are you standing me up on the dance floor?”

He could recognise a life raft when he saw one. “Quynh! I completely forgot!”

Quynh laughed and rolled her eyes when Dr Kozak started looking between the two of them.

“Ah men, what are they like?” Quynh said to her as she reached for Nicky’s arm, “Sorry Meta, I will bring him back in one piece but he’s promised me this dance!”

Dr Kozak responded something, but Nicky neither knew nor cared whether it was in any way favourable towards them, only glad that his feet were carrying him away from her.

“Thank you,” he whispered to Quynh when they reached a spot comfortably out of her earshot at the other end of the dancefloor. “I don’t think I would have survived dancing with her.”

“No worries,” she said, “Andy did the same thing for me this morning, and you looked like you needed help, so I thought, you know. Let’s pay it forward.”

Nicky laughed and fell into an easy sway with her. He’d seen what she could do earlier, but had neither the energy to try for any more adventurous dancing, nor to feel self-conscious about this fact.

“Yeah, she can be a bit much. Were you in the lecture yesterday? About the hormones?”

“Oh my God, tell me about it,” Quynh said, “I got my own lecture in a whirlpool this morning.”

“In a whirlpool?”

“Yep,” Quynh said, popping the last sound of the word, “It was supposed to be a spa experience, but she made it decidedly unrelaxing by harping on about her research.”

Nicky shook his head. He’d met his fair share of people with single-minded ambition and with every year he aged, it became less and less of a trait he could excuse.

“Tell you something though,” Quynh went out, seemingly lost in thought, “something about her research and this new product launch doesn’t add up.”

Nicky shot her an amused look. “You mean apart from the fact that they’re using the faces of two unassuming bystanders to promote it?”

Quynh snorted. “Let’s not even get into that. No, I’m pretty sure that this morning Dr Kozak mentioned that this drug she was working on had not yet been approved by any of the pharmaceutical governance bodies in the UK. I’m pretty sure she said it hadn’t even been through human testing yet. And now it’s supposed to start release on Tuesday?”

Nicky frowned. This didn’t sound particularly out of character for what he imagined someone at a pharmaceutical company might do – but they usually complied with at least basic legal frameworks of the countries they were launching in.

“Could it be a different drug she was talking about?” he asked.

Quynh considered this for a moment. “It was something about Klotho hormone extraction.”

“Which, together with the collagen treatment she was talking about yesterday,” Nicky said, giving her a meaningful look, “sounds exactly like a drug that might promise immortal beauty.”

They both snickered for a moment, recalling Joe’s choice of words, before the gravity of what they’d just worked out settled over them again. They were still dancing, but barely.

“Listen,” Quynh said, and took a step away, ending their dance, “let me know if I’m overstepping here, but this launch really doesn’t sit well with me. I know we’re only the outsiders here, and I don’t know if it’s our place, but-“

She stopped herself, but Nicky was already nodding. “We should do something about it.”

“Yeah,” Quynh breathed, clearly relieved that he agreed. “But when you say we-“

“We should probably tell Andy,” he added, “And Joe.”

They stood there for a moment longer, looking at each other as if trying to gauge just how serious they’d each been about what they’d just said. Nicky didn’t like making decisions this close to midnight, but if Quynh was in, and if he could convince Andy, then so was he. It was the right thing to do.

“Right,” Quynh said, “then let’s go find our, uh, other halves before Kozak shows back up. Meet you on the corridor with the meeting room?”

Nicky nodded, not missing how she hesitated before the words ‘other halves’ and wondered if she knew that he knew. “See you there.”

Quynh set off to look for Joe, and he scanned the crowd for Andy. If this meant skipping the last dance, he was all for it – but he was going to make an argument that they left any actual investigation until the next day.”

* * *

Andy was fine. She was completely okay. Everything was perfectly alright, and there was no reason why should be hiding in a broom cupboard, of all places. So what _was_ she doing there?

The answer was probably somewhere on the spectrum of activities that were encompassed in the phrase “trying to pull herself together.” After she’d dropped her Vodka, the barkeeper had very kindly made her another one, even added an extra shot all while she had sat on the floor in front of the bar. When she had received that drink, she’d gotten up and bolted from the ballroom as fast as she could walk without spilling her newly acquired drink.

By this point, the drink was nothing but a pleasantly flavoured memory on her tongue, but she wasn’t sure she was ready to go back yet. She didn’t care whether any other VPs or senior execs, or even fucking Merrick had seen her sitting on the floor – the worst thing that could happen in that regard, really, was that someone was going to offer her a high five for being “a legend” the next day.

No, that wasn’t her problem. Likely wasn’t going to be her problem ever again, if the notice that kept writing itself in her mind actually made it to paper before long.

What kept her in the broom closet was that she suddenly felt very… raw. There was an uncertainty she’d tip-toed around ever since she’d arrived at Hampton Manor and laid eyes on Quynh.

Joe was going to take Quynh dancing so she could make out with every pretty girl in the room, and Andy tried to decide what she wanted more, to just be thrilled by the image or a pretty girl in that room. The only pretty girl in the room, preferably, and there, kind of, was all she needed to know. Oh, she had it _bad_.

Andy let her head sink against the sliver of wall she was leaning against, as the little room was otherwise full of shelves. Someone was walking down the corridor towards her and Andy cursed the fact that she hadn’t closed the door fully when she’d ducked into the broom cupboard earlier. She wouldn’t feel the need to explain herself so much as that it would be impossible not to go back to the ball if she was found.

The footsteps on the corridor stopped and were followed by a knock, presumably on the meeting room door. “Joe?”

Andy’s breath hitched, before it stopped altogether. Quynh continued her search for Joe down the corridor and Andy felt shivers of heat and cold run down her back, torn between wanting her to find her there and to pass unnoticed.

Quynh came to stand in front of the broom cupboard. “Joe, are you in here?” she asked again, and gave the door the slightest push.

Andy’s heart was in her throat, but she tried to swallow past it. “Not Joe,” she said and stepped into the light pouring into the small room from the corridor, “just me.”

A gust of breath rushed out of Quynh, who had clearly been startled. She put her arm up on the door frame. “Andy! What are you doing here?”

Andy felt like she’d been looking at her all evening, but only in the deep contrasts of the shadows and the light on this corridor did she notice the details of her beauty. The way her lipstick, now slightly smudged, matched the exact shade of her dress. How the gentle waves of her hair caressed her slender shoulders. She looked soft, but a little bit dangerous, and Andy was on uneven ground.

“We’ve been looking for you,” Quynh continued, “Nicky and I.”

“Oh?” was all Andy managed.

“Yeah,” Quynh said, “we’ve been talking about this drug Merrick wants to let people try tomorrow, and how we have some serious concerns about how ethical it is. Well, ethics of the drug aside, if they haven’t been trialled yet it’s definitely not ethical to give it to your employees, and we thought that- Andy, are you listening to me?”

Andy hadn’t been listening. She’d been staring, and she’d been caught. “Sorry,” Andy said, trying to at least look into Quynh’s eyes without getting lost in them, “long day.”

“That’s okay,” Quynh said and pushed off the frame to lean against it with her back instead, “I told Nicky to meet me here with you anyway, so I’m assuming since you’re already here, he’ll show up without you before long and we can discuss then.”

She smiled at Andy again, in accommodation or invitation, Andy wasn’t sure, but she knew she had to say something, anything, before she made this whole situation weird. But it sure as hell wasn’t going to be _I overheard you and Joe earlier_ again.

“Quynh,” she said, stepping closer, and watched Quynh’s face go from smiling to concerned to curious in the span of less than a second. Her voice sounded rougher than intended.

“Is everything okay?” Quynh asked.

Andy nodded. “Quynh, if I’ve misread things, or this is in any way unwelcome, please stop me, but I-“ She was still on her tip-toes, but maybe it was time to put her foot down.

Andy more felt than heard Quynh’s surprised intake of breath when she leaned in to kiss her, her lips already parted under her mouth. They were so soft, and Quynh smelled so lovely, but none of that mattered until Quynh relaxed against her, angling her head to deepen the kiss.

Her next breath was a shudder through Andy’s body, and when Quynh’s fingers found their way onto her hip and into her hair, she had to pull back for a second, steady herself. Andy opened her eyes to find Quynh’s already on her.

“That okay?” she whispered.

“ _More_ than,” Quynh replied, half-breath, half-laugh, and then she was kissing Andy again, crowding her into the broom cupboard. “Let’s hope Nicky takes a moment.”

* * *

When he felt like there couldn’t possibly be another woman he hadn’t danced with yet, Joe had snuck out of the ballroom and into the back garden. He regretted for a moment not being a smoker, which would have given him an excuse to join one of the groups of people huddled together on the patio without the risk of immediately being asked to dance again, but that’s what you got for making good life choices. Although he probably shouldn’t start priding himself too much on that point, particularly taking into account the last couple of days. Weeks maybe. Or years, if he wanted to go as far back the day when he signed his contract with Merrick Industries.

Joe’s fingers itched for his sketchbook, but there of course hadn’t been a place for it in his suit jacket. Just something to take his mind of things, maybe a quick study of some of the trees that were lining the garden. And there was a sketch he’d started that morning and never finished, of course.

“Joe?”

The fact that it was a male voice saying his name made it easier to turn with a smile – just because he knew he wasn’t going to be asked to dance – but it nearly faltered when his brain recognised the slight Italian inflection.

Nicky was walking towards him, his face oddly serious and intense, and Joe wondered how he was breathing at all. He’d thought this man was beautiful the first time he’d seen him, of course, but having to look at him in a tailored tux, was, given the circumstances, simply _unfair_.

“Have you seen Andy or Quynh?” Nicky asked.

Joe shook his head.

“Will you help me find them? There’s something we need to discuss.” Nicky sounded as serious as he looked and Joe wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

Nicky made a vague gestured with his hand, his mouth curled somewhat unhappily, and if Joe hadn’t been worried before, he was now.

“Where have you looked yet?”

“Just inside and now out here,” Nicky answered, carding a hand through his hair. “We should try by the kitchens, maybe?”

Joe nodded, and followed Nicky back inside, where they both took the first possible exit from the ballroom onto a connecting corridor.

“Why don’t we split up,” Joe suggested. This seemed practical for a number of reasons. One, it would likely save time, and two, it would make it possible for Joe to look at things that weren’t either Nicky’s ass in those trousers, or the little dip of his throat where he’d opened the first button of his shirt under his bowtie. “You go towards the kitchens, and I’ll go this way where the meeting rooms are, and if we can’t find them we’ll just meet back in the middle there.”

Nicky nodded and made his way towards the kitchen, and Joe only stared after him for maybe two seconds, five at most, before checking the corridor with the meeting rooms. He wasn’t sure what exactly the emergency was, but he assumed if either Andy or Quynh were in danger, Nicky’s first instinct would have been to alert some authorities and not organise a search party of two. And a search party of two with a negative track record, at that.

There was no one in the meeting room, and the surrounding bathrooms were also empty.

He could already see Nicky coming down the corridor from the kitchens again, so that was likely a dead end as well.

Joe was sure that neither Andy nor Quynh would be hanging around in a broom cupboard at this hour of the night, but in the spirit of thoroughness, he checked in there as well.

It was pitch black in the cupboard, but the light from the corridor illuminated a female figure in a suit very, very obviously pressed against another body against the shelves of the cupboard. This was enough for Joe to hastily close the door again and step away from it was if he’d been burned.

He hadn’t been able to see much, and his brain was struggling with what he’d seen, but from what he did comprehend, he had seen more than enough. The thing was, there was only one woman who’d worn a suit tonight. After the comment Booker had made earlier, Joe hadn’t want to consider, hadn’t wanted to think about some people being propositioned and actually _acting_ on it, least of all-

“Joe? Is everything okay?” Nicky had caught up to him on the corridor while he’d been staring at the broom cupboard.

 _Oh no._ Oh this was bad.

If Andy emerged from this cupboard now to check what the interruption had been, and Nicky _saw_ her, and Joe would be there for the disintegration of their relationship – in an entirely unexpected manner, no less – that would be- there would be no coming back from that.

“Is there someth-“

Acting on instinct, Joe clamped his hand over Nicky’s mouth and shook his head to stop him from speaking. They had to get away from there immediately.

Nicky rightfully looked at him like Joe had lost his mind, but didn’t complain as Joe pushed him towards one of the bathrooms to hide out in. He realised a bit belatedly that he could’ve removed his hand from Nicky’s mouth before the door closed behind them, but what was done was done. Nicky had looked pretty bemused before, and Joe couldn’t honestly tell if this little manoeuvre had added to that.

He took a step away from Nicky, but there was a door to his back, so he just leaned against that.

“What are we doing in here?” Nicky asked.

A fair question. An entirely fair question, that Joe should definitely have an answer to. _Did_ have an answer to, but he couldn’t tell Nicky the truth, not now. If Joe had been a different man, he might have been able to tell Nicky, who he’d seen cry with joy over the news of his little niece hours earlier, that his partner was currently in the process of cheating on him and he’d just tried to spare him from the fall out, but Joe would never be able to do that to anyone.

“Just- hiding,” Joe said, “for a moment. Checking twice Andy and Quynh aren’t here.”

Nicky looked around the room as if to indulge him then cocked his head to one side. And that was- that was a lot of things. It was mainly the dim lighting of the room casting deep shadows over Nicky’s face, illuminating the little twinkle in his eye, but Joe’s eyes kept travelling to the mole on his cheek.

He’d spent a good amount of time that morning looking forward to adding it to his sketch of Nicky sleeping once he was finished, as a final detail, but he’d never gotten that far, and now it was all he could think about.

Had Nicky come closer? It was hard to say, if he thought about it too long he’d have to loosen his collar, and to loosen his collar he’d have to remove his hands from under his back, and if he did that he wasn’t sure what else he was going to do with them.

“They’re not here,” Nicky said, and swallowed. “Shall we go back?”

“Nicky,” he said, and he really wished his voice didn’t sound like that just now. Not if he had to tell Nicky- “You know how sometimes we love people, we love them so much, but the way in which we love them is different from how we had anticipated? Like, some people might come into your life when you’re very young and you don’t quite know what to feel about them yet other than friendship, and even if that goes away, you know part of you will always love them.”

Where was this coming from? Joe had no idea, but apparently a part of him had decided to give Nicky a flowery speech instead of a straightforward answer.

“Or with first love, when it lasts, it can be such a beautiful thing, because people never think it does, always assume people break it off once they graduate from school, but some people can turn puppy love into something long lasting, and their love is stronger because they managed to change it and change with it.”

A small lined had appeared between Nicky’s eyebrows, and Joe really thought that he should stop him, any time now. He really should stop talking. But Nicky wasn’t stopping him, Nicky was looking at his mouth.

“Only of course, that’s so rare, because more often than not, love doesn’t work like this. People come into our lives, and we might realise that the love we thought we felt for them was actually friendship, and sometimes we make decisions out of another, stronger love we feel for another person in that moment, and-“

“ _Oddio_ , Joe,” Nicky finally snapped, and Joe could feel him exhale, a push of air ghosting over his lips, “why don’t you just kiss me?”

But he didn’t wait for Joe to catch up with that statement, or untangle his increasingly chaotic thoughts about Andy cheating on this beautiful, beautiful man, and leaned forward, pressing his lips to Joe’s as his hands fisted in his suit jacket.

It was everything that Joe’d been fantasising about since he’d seen Nicky walk into the meeting room the day before, Nicky everything as soft and as warm and as firm in the right places, but it was also the final push to make him lose his mind.

So he kissed Nicky back, licked into his mouth to enjoy this just a second longer, then untangled his arms from his back. He gently took Nicky’s face in his hands as he moved away, and it took everything in his power not to melt back into Nicky as he chased Joe’s lips.

“But- Andy?” Joe asked, searching Nicky’s heavily-lidded eyes. _Nevermind what she was doing at the moment_.

“What about An-,” Nicky began, then seemed to see something in Joe’s eyes that changed his mind. “Did she not tell you yet?”

“Tell me what,” Joe whispered. _Anything to make this make sense._

“We’re not together,” Nicky said, and rested his forehead against Joe’s. “Never were, for what I’d like to say are obvious reasons, but I’m not so sure anymore.”

“Oh,” Joe said, and closed his eyes. He needed to concentrate for a moment to let that information sink in, but Nicky was kissing along the edge of his beard on his cheek. “So you know about me and Quynh, I assume?” he asked.

Nicky nodded, then leaned back a little. “Wait, if you didn’t know then what were you talking about just now?”

Joe closed his eyes. It really didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. “Will you let me get away with saying I’ll tell you tomorrow?” he asked, but he didn’t get an answer.

Nicky was kissing him again, crowding him against the door and sliding his arms around Joe’s neck, and he wasn’t going to concern himself with anything but that for a while.

* * *

“Ladies and gentlemen, the time has come: please make your way to the dancefloor for the last dance of the night!”

“Finally,” Booker groaned, but let Sophie drag him to the dancefloor. The fact that it was her made the whole experience infinitely more enjoyable. It was a slow piece of music, and so they mainly held each other, and swayed on the spot. 

“Is it just me,” Sophie said after a while, “or is the dancefloor a lot… thinner populated than for the first dance?”

Booker looked up from where his head had been resting on her shoulder.

“Hm,” he said, “some people already turned in for the night, perhaps?”

Booker could feel Sophie smile against his own shoulder. “Not quite what I meant,” she said, “look again.”

Booker saw Nile grin at him from where she was dancing with one of the waiters across the room, and then the coin dropped.

“Well, well, well,” he said to Sophie, “let’s just hope they’ve taken off with the right person this time.”

“I doubt it,” Sophie said, “or well. I guess it depends on your definition of ‘right’.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No, I will not be renaming this fic "two times Nicky had a breakdown in a nice bathroom and one time he didn't" although that clearly would've been the better title :)


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some people spend the night - and make some plans over breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I, uh, don't actually enjoy miscommunication (I know) in fics (I knoww) when it comes to romantic relationships (I know, I know, please don't @ me), particularly when that's used as a cheap device to add some angst if people would just. talk. for a second. (I promise there will be no angst!)
> 
> Turns out that having healthy romantic communication while also being completely clueless about other things going on requires some fairly advanced mental gymnastics though, so at this point, I am very confused, but as you can tell, I think I've found a way to work it out, as wa-hey! the rating's gone up. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

Quynh was pretty sure she was dreaming. It was dark but she kept opening her eyes to check it was real, that it was really _Andy_ who had decided to kiss her senseless in there. And it was. A pleasant surprise every time, before she closed her eyes and lost herself to her senses again.

Who was _this_ Quynh who apparently kicked doors shut in dancing heels to throw herself at her best friend’s colleague in a broom cupboard and didn’t even bother to stifle a moan when she was pushed against the shelves? She had no idea, but she was very excited to find out.

Andy tasted of vodka and lemons, and every so often she did this _thing_ with her tongue in Quynh’s mouth that sent electric shocks straight down to the bottom of her spine. Andy’s poor scalp had to be raw by now, but she couldn’t actually expect Quynh not to curl her fingers into her hair, nails scraping against her head for something to hold onto.

She was light-headed, she was giddy, she was in her body but in a lot of places at once, and if this went on any longer Quynh was sure she was going to float away.

_Thank God for the iron grip Andy had on her hips._

She was about to say as much when all of a sudden, there was the tell-tale click of a door opening, and a moment later a beam of light from the corridor fell into the room. Andy pulled away from her as Quynh squinted, trying to make out anything in the sudden brightness, but as soon as it had been there, it was gone again.

Quynh’s eyes readjusted. Andy was inches from her face, and they stared at each other as they panted, breaths mingling and ghosting over Quynh’s lips.

 _‘What was that?’_ Quynh mouthed. There were steps outside the door, someone was saying something, and Quynh strained to listen. The sound of their shared breaths seemed indescribably loud all of a sudden. It was like the anticipation of playing hide-and-seek, only that they had already been found.

Andy shrugged. ‘ _Nicky?_ ’ she mouthed back.

Ah, yes. They had agreed to meet back here. Funny how easy it was to forget such trivial things as ethical concerns about pharmaceutical practices while being kissed within an inch of your life.

Andy’s thumb stroked Quynh’s hip in a soothing circle before taking her hand instead, and then she took a step back to press her ear against the door while Quynh tried to calm her breathing. She looked at where her fingers were carded through Andy’s and a part of her wanted to laugh at how easy this felt, how _simple_ it was, when at the same time, this had to be the weirdest love-triangle situation she had ever heard of. Or was it a square? Whatever it was, there were too many people involved, and the fact that it was an imaginary square, so to speak, did surprisingly little to uncomplicate things.

Andy looked at her again. “I can’t hear anything,” she said. “Shall we chance it?”

“Chance it?”

Andy had a wicked, wicked grin. “Did you want to spend the entire night in here?”

Quynh hadn’t thought about it, didn’t have _the chance to_ , but she’d hoped she’d get to kiss Andy for a little while longer and then- yeah, she wasn’t entirely sure what would happen then. Would they still be in time to make it back for the last dance? It seemed unlikely.

Andy cracked open the door and cast a glance down the corridor. “Come on,” she said, “the coast is clear.”

Quynh’s was momentarily blinded by the onslaught of light again, but then she had to laugh once she could see Andy’s face.

“Sure,” she said, but stepped closer to Andy, sliding her hands over her jaw. “But all this sneaking around will do nothing if you go back out there with lipstick all over your face. Let me clean it up?”

* * *

When Nicky had woken up that morning, cold and confused, he’d had exactly _zero_ expectations for this day. As far as he was concerned, it was going to be another twenty-four hours he had to pass at some rich boy CEOs mansion before he’d finally, finally be allowed to fly home. But a lot had happened since then, and the day was slowly pushing into territory of becoming the best day of Nicky’s life. He’d been so happy when he’d seen the picture of his niece. He’d been confused, tentatively excited when Andy had told him that the married guy he had developed an unfortunate crush on, was, in fact, not married. But that didn’t really compare to what it felt like to kiss Joe.

He still didn’t know if he’d actually managed to think everything through, but there had been a moment when Joe had put his hand on his mouth and stood so close and begun to ramble about love, that Nicky realised two things with shocking clarity: One, that he’d gladly listen to this man talk about more or less anything until the end of his days, but also, that said end was going to come very soon if he didn’t kiss Joe right there and then.

A small miracle that had worked out, really.

He had one arm around Joe’s shoulders, carding the fingers of his other hand through Joe’s curls and tried his best not to buck into Joe every time Joe’s hand ran down his back under his suit jacket. Joe stopped short of actually slipping his fingers into the waistband of Nicky’s trousers, and Nicky was conflicted whether he wanted him to. On the one hand, the stopping-just-short-of was driving him insane, but on the other, so did the feeling of Joe’s tongue against his own. Maybe adding Joe’s fingers on his ass to that was not the best idea unless he wanted this situation to escalate. But if it did, this would be the place for it. They were already in a bathroom, after all.

“This is-” Joe gasped against him, and Nicky found he agreed even though Joe never finished the sentence and instead began to mouth at his jaw. Nicky let his head fall back to give Joe better access and focussed on his breathing, tried to stay still. Joe’s lips were soft against Nicky’s skin, a delicious contrast to his beard, and when Joe nipped, actually nipped at the pulse point just under Nicky’s jaw with his teeth, Nicky made a noise so close to a mewl he knew he’d forever have to deny it.

Joe chuckled against him, his breath both warm on Nicky’s skin and cold where he’d just kissed him, then dropped his head onto Nicky’s shoulder.

“This is-“ he tried again, but clearly gave up trying to find the words a moment later in favour of nuzzling into the space between Nicky’s neck and shoulder. Their kiss had been heated, but the gesture was so sweet that Nicky wasn’t sure he wasn’t going to spontaneously combust.

“I really, really want to keep going with this,” Joe said, and Nicky could feel the words vibrate through his own throat. He tightened his fingers in Joe’s hair. “But if you were to step away from me now I think might sink to the floor and go to sleep right here.”

Nicky laughed at the mental image. “It is a very nice bathroom.”

“Maybe by your standards. You slept on a deck chair last night.”

“I feel sorry for anyone you’ve ever promised to ‘spend the night with’ if your definition of ‘night’ is only the 45 minutes before sunrise,” Nicky said and pressed a kiss to the side of Joe’s head when he started to protest. “Alright, alright, let’s get you to bed.”

He pulled away as far as Joe would let him, before he had to reach down and untangle Joe’s hands from his shirt. He really looked half-asleep even standing up, staring at Nicky with glassy eyes. It was too much for Nicky to resist leaning forward and kissing his nose.

“Hey,” Joe said, the way someone might say “I’m not cute!” (and would be wrong), but didn’t protest further when Nicky motioned to open the door behind him.

He even let himself be led down the corridor and up the stairs, Nicky’s hand always hovering about an inch over his lower back in case they ran into anyone.

Nicky remembered the room Andy and him had been put in the day before, and figured that it would now be Joe’s. He left Joe to lean against the wall next to the room as he knocked on the door. Maybe Quynh had already gone to bed, and he didn’t want to intrude on her.

“’s fine,” Joe mumbled after a moment, and pushed the door open.

The room was dark and empty until Nicky turned on the light, as Joe had simply stumbled forward until his knees hit the bed and then slumped forward.

Nicky closed the door, then walked over to lean over Joe. “Are you going to be okay? Or do I need to tuck you in as well?”

Joe cracked open an eye to peer up at Nicky as a sleepy smile curled around his lips, and it shouldn’t be so adorable, but it was. “It wouldn’t hurt if you did.”

Nicky sighed, more put upon than he actually felt, and knelt on the bed to slide Joe’s jacket of his shoulders, then pushed him over onto his back to take off his shoes.

“If I’d known this came with an undressing service, I would have _insisted_ you tuck me in,” Joe said sleepily above him somewhere.

“Yeah?” Nicky said as he slid Joe’s second shoe off and pulled at his socks. “Don’t you think if you’re awake enough to make quips you’re awake enough to do this yourself?”

Joe smiled with his eyes closed, but reached down to open his trousers. Nicky stood quickly and turned his face away, suddenly shy again after basically rutting against Joe moments earlier.

“I’ll leave you to it.” He turned to go, but looked back over Joe at the door, before he turned out the light.

“Nicky,” Joe said, his voice rough and a little needy, drawing out the last syllable like he’d done in the bathroom earlier. Nicky would have done whatever he’d suggested then, and he knew that hadn’t changed since. On the contrary.

“Stay?” Joe whispered.

Nicky sighed. “What about Quynh?”

“Only until I’m asleep,” Joe mumbled into a pillow. He was only in his boxers and the shirt he’d worn under his dress shirt now, one arm thrown wide in invitation.

Leaving then had never been an option.

“Fine,” Nicky said, slid off his own jacket, tie and shoes and turned off the light. He crawled onto the bed and let Joe pull him against him, body warm and firm against his back. Joe nuzzled into his neck and Nicky felt like a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding all night escaped him. So, so much better than a deckchair. There was a chance he’d never been this comfortable. “I’ll stay until you’re asleep.”

He was out like a light thirty seconds later.

* * *

“Quynh,” Andy said, although at this point it sounded less like a name and more like she was drowning and coming up for air with only this word on her lips, “Quynh, I appreciate your clean-up efforts-“

Quynh looked up from where she was mouthing at Andy’s jaw. “But?”

“But we’re not getting anywhere if you always keep undoing them the second you’re finished.”

Quynh smiled and leaned her head against Andy’s, nose pressed into her cheek. It was a gesture of easy contentment and in that moment, something that had been rattling around Andy’s chest… settled.

“It’s not my fault red lipstick looks so good on you,” Quynh said, “But don’t worry, I’ll let you borrow it some time.”

She pressed another kiss to Andy’s cheek – how there was even any lipstick _left_ was a mystery to Andy – then took a step away and removed the mark with her thumb. Her hand began to slide down Andy’s neck, and Andy brought her hand up to close over it before she could take it away.

“Where did you want to go?” Quynh whispered into the tiny space that was now separating them, but Andy could feel the words swelling in her chest.

 _Home with you_ , she thought, and it was too much all of a sudden. But she had been right, if she leaned back in to continue kissing Quynh they were not going to make it anywhere, and, at least from Andy’s point of view, it had been obvious for some time where this night was headed. And she really was too old to do it against a rickety storage shelf.

Andy let a wicked smile appear on her face. “I don’t know, a place where we could both lie down without getting a cramp would be nice, don’t you think?”

She watched Quynh swallow, the dance of shadows over her throat and felt parched herself. Taking Quynh’s hand that she’d held on her neck, Andy tangled their finger together and pressed a last kiss to Quynh’s lips before opening the door and pulling her out into the corridor.

The light out there was stark and unwelcoming compared to their little world of shadows in the cupboard. It didn’t make Quynh any less beautiful – if anything, knowing the exact state of her hair added to her beauty in Andy’s eyes – but it did make everything feel a lot more _real_ all of a sudden.

They let go of each other when they reached the end of the corridor, faced with the prospect of potentially running into stray dancers from the ballroom or the first people turning in from the night’s revelries.

Andy turned to Quynh. “Unless you wanted to go back in?”

“I think the dancing is over.” Quynh nodded to where one of the musicians was leaving the ballroom with an instrument case. Leaning closer to Andy, she whispered: “And besides, what’s the point if I can’t dance with you?”

“You make some… compelling arguments,” Andy said and turned to cross the entrance hall to the wing where the bedrooms were located. It wouldn’t do to get anymore lost in Quynh than she already was, here, where everyone could see. She held open the door to her room and they both ducked inside.

It was dark there again, like it had been in their cupboard, and Andy was hesitant to turn on the light. There were patches of warm light from street lamps and the patio outside coming from the window so they could see, and Andy didn’t want to destroy the cloak of intimacy that had settled back over them.

Quynh sat down on the edge of the bed and slid out of her heels with a sigh, stretching her legs.

Andy looked at her for a moment from where she was leaning against the door, how she sprawled across the sheets with the sheer endless amount of red fabric draped around her. It made her look small, and undeniably sexy, Andy supposed, but that wasn’t why she was looking. Well, it wasn’t the whole reason why she was looking. Quynh also looked indescribably _right_ there in her bed, and Andy tried to bask in this feeling that still seemed to fill her chest, made it expand, for a moment longer. She couldn’t remember when she’d last felt like this.

“Andy,” Quynh said, and pulled her out of her reverie. She was smiling at Andy from the bed, because of course, Andy had been staring again. But now she _could_.

Kicking off her own shoes, Andy walked over to the bed and knelt in front of Quynh to kiss her again, immediately deep and daring. Quynh let her for a moment, sinking into Andy’s embrace, then she pulled away. “Andy, what are we doing?”

“If it’s not obvious I _really_ need to try harder,” Andy deflected, joking, but of course she knew what Quynh was talking about. The fact that she was already thinking about how she felt about Quynh beyond just this moment, had been thinking about that ever since she’d considered working with Quynh, told her that Quynh wasn’t the only one who wanted to know the answer to that question. Only in that moment alone, it was a question too big for Andy to answer. Because while she’d always assumed that she was amazing in bed, it had never really translated into relationships beyond that realm.

Quynh kept her eyes on her and Andy sighed, pushing her fringe out of her face. “I think there are a lot of conversations we need to have,” she said. “Conversations we’ve already tried to have, about my job, about your job. About us. But I don’t think we can have them, truly have them, before the weekend is over?”

Quynh traced her fingers through Andy’s hair, leaving a tingling trail on her scalp where she’d scratched it earlier, and nodded.

“But for now,” Andy continued, and let her hands wander to the zip of Quynh’s dress, “we can just do this? If you want?”

Quynh laughed at her boldness, and gave her another peck of the lips. “Yes,” she said, and motioned to pull Andy into her lap, “there’s only one more thing.”

Andy settled herself then stopped, looking at Quynh expectantly.

“What about Nicky?” she asked.

 _Ah._ Andy dropped her head onto Quynh’s shoulder. She was a horrible, horrible friend. “How badly would you think of me if I said he’ll be fine?”

“Oh, that depends,” Quynh sighed, and worked her fingers under Andy’s jacket to begin pulling her shirt out of her trousers, “Did you lock the door?”

Andy nodded, far more interested in what Quynh’s hands were doing than speaking.

“Hm, that’s pretty bad,” Quynh went on, but continued to undress Andy, “I’d feel terrible taking away his place to sleep, so I’d probably be inclined to leave when he shows up.”

Andy couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped her when Quynh slid both her dress shirt and suit jacket off in one go. She looked up, and Quynh took her face into her hands and pressed a small kiss on her mouth.

“But I guess I might change my opinion of you if I come at _least_ once before that happens.”

Had Andy ever backed down from a challenge? The fact that she hadn’t probably shouldn’t necessarily be something she was proud of, but in this case, it definitely paid off.

She stood back up and pulled Quynh with her, both laughing all the way, to undo the zipper on Quynh’s dress and help her step out of it.

As the dress fell to the floor, it suddenly became obvious that Quynh was not wearing a bra.

“The only blessing of having small boobs,” Quynh said when she caught Andy staring, and it might have been the only thing that reminded Andy of where she was and what she’d been doing.

“I will not have you say that in a tone that self-deprecating,” she replied as she took off her trousers.

“Or you’ll do… what?”

Quynh _had_ to know what that combination of a raised eyebrow and drop in voice was doing to Andy. _Had to_.

With what might have been a growl, Andy gently pushed Quynh onto the bed until she lay there, splayed out like a feast. Then she knelt over her hips and sucked one of Quynh’s nipples into her mouth.

“Oh m-“ Quynh interrupted herself with a sharp intake of breath. Andy smiled up at her, swirling her tongue once more before moving on to Quynh’s other boob and pushing her fingers down Quynh’s knickers.

“You could at least take off your own bra before-“ Quynh started, but Andy found an excellent spot to shut up her complaints.

“You could do it yourself,” Andy teased, and kissed her way up from Quynh’s chest to her neck as she began to gently stroke Quynh’s pussy. She wanted to take her time with this, really, but right that moment, it was one thing they didn’t have.

Quynh levelled a glare at her, but let go of the sheets she’d been clutching and instead reached around Andy to unclasp the hook of her bra.

Andy laughed and allowed Quynh to slide the bra of her shoulders, trace the outline of her boobs with her fingers for a second, before she pressed Quynh back into the mattress and licked into her mouth.

Quynh had started to get wet, and Andy dipped one of her fingers into her fold, just tracing the rim of her hole. She _really_ wanted to take her time with this, but if the sounds Quynh was making were any indication, that would’ve only been in her own interest.

Sicking another finger, Andy moved the pads of both of them to the top of Quynh’s pussy and began to massage the skin there in gentle circles. Quynh sighed happily into her mouth and her kiss grew a little sloppy. She was so very wet, and every other circle, Andy’s fingers slipped to her sweet spot even if she hadn’t wanted to.

The noise Quynh made every time was delicious, and even as Andy tried to eat it up with her kisses, it was all the encouragement she needed to increase the pressure. Narrowing her circles, she focussed the pressure of her fingers onto a spot just above Quynh’s clit and watched with delight as Quynh broke their kiss, gasping for air.

“Mhmm, Andy-“ Quynh braced herself against Andy’s shoulder with her left hand, the other clutching the sheets as she looked down her body to where Andy’s fingers disappeared in her knickers. “Andy, I can’t-“

Andy was so wet herself, and it was all she could do not to grind down on the side of Quynh’s hips as well, but she worried she might lose her rhythm.

“Yes, you can.” She leaned down to whisper in Quynh’s ear. “Come on, darling. Come for me.”

Quynh threw her head back against the sheets with low grunt that Andy could feel straight down to her toes, then her chest bucked, once, twice and she trembled under Andy’s fingers, warm and wet and _so alive_.

Andy watched her as she tried to regain her breathing, eyes shut and one arm thrown over her eyes, and resisted the urge to just shove the hand she’d just used to bring Quynh of down her own underwear. Instead, she trailed a finger up Quynh’s stomach and curled one of her strands of her around them, then leaned down to press gentle kisses to her neck.

“I- yeah,” Quynh said after a moment. “Turns out I could.”

“I’m glad.” Andy laughed against her throat then kissed down the trail she’d just drawn with her finger, hovering to nip at Quynh’s belly button.

“What are you doing?” Quynh asked.

“You said you wanted to come at least once before Nicky got here.”

Andy looked up to find Quynh frowning at that answer, but that was all the warning she got before Quynh pushed her shoulder back into the mattress and climbed on top of her instead.

“And I did,” Quynh said, and settled to breathe against her stomach, kissing the little patch of skin just above Andy’s knickers. Then she dipped lower, flicking her tongue at the wet spot that’d been forming on them. Andy’s breath hitched, and Quynh looked back up at her, a devious smirk on her face. “Your turn.”

* * *

Joe woke up because something – or rather, someone – he’d been holding onto startled awake. Waking up was not generally something that agreed with Joe, so he kept his eyes closed and tightened his grip on whoever it was that was twisting in his arms. They were warm and smelled nice, and Joe could be excused for nuzzling into the heat and going back to sleep for a moment longer. He’d been having a _fantastic_ dream.

Unless- Oh. Unless he’d decided to cradle Quynh close in the middle of the night and was currently suffocating her with his spooning. That would not be good. He’d done it exactly once before, and he’d survived, but at least that time he hadn’t woken up with any morning wood. Which, yeah. If he was currently snuggling Quynh, he was as good as dead. All the more reason to go back to sleep, with any luck, he could pick his dream up right where he left off.

But the person in his arms seemed to have other ideas.

“Joe?” Whoever it was, they were clearly determined to wriggle free of Joe’s arm to turn around or get up. They also had a deliciously gruff morning voice which was enough incentive for Joe to at least crack an eye open to check who he was waking up with.

The first thing that came into his mind when he saw Nicky’s beautiful big eyes peer at him from the other pillow was, _You’re not Quynh._ (Which he had the mental wherewithal _not_ to say out loud, thank you very much. People generally didn’t respond too well to being accused of not being someone else shortly after waking up, in his experience.)

But if Nicky was here with him, then- His hand tightened on where it was still resting on Nicky’s hip. “So what happened last night wasn’t a dream?”

A smile spread over Nicky’s face, and he glanced down at Joe’s boxershorts. “I can’t speak for your _entire_ dream, but… yeah.”

Joe sighed, and closed his eyes again. Even in his dream, he hadn’t actually gotten to that part. “And why are we awake again?”

One of his curls had fallen into his face, and he could feel Nicky reach out to push it back onto his head. He didn’t know how futile an endeavour that was, yet.

“Well, I was only supposed to stay until you were asleep, and instead I accidentally stayed until you were awake again,” Nicky said. “But Quynh does not seem to have needed her bed tonight, so I guess it was okay?”

Joe nodded into the pillow. “She’s a very smart woman.”

“Hmm,” Nicky agreed, “but she still might need to sleep at _some point_ , so I was going to go let Andy know I didn’t die last night and get some breakfast.”

“Or,” Joe cracked one eye open again, and softly petted Nicky’s hip, “or you could stay here with me?”

Nicky let out a quiet laugh. “If I do, will you just go straight back to sleep?”

“Most likely.” Joe grinned sheepishly.

“And if I leave-“

“I’ll be heartbroken,” Joe interrupted him, but he could tell when a man’s heart was set on breakfast, “but I’ll live.”

“By which you mean, sleep.”

“Correct.” Joe smiled into his pillow, but let Nicky pluck his hand off his hip when he made to sit up.

“Alright, I’ll let you get your beauty sleep,” Nicky said, and Joe sighed happily when he leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead, then his mouth.

“I might leave you a note as well,” Nicky added, more to himself, “just in case you wake up and think it was all a dream again.”

* * *

Nicky never did show up to knock on the door and ask to be let in, so when Quynh woke the next morning, she felt somewhat… boneless. The sunlight was streaming into the window and Andy slept head pillowed on her chest, arm slung around Quynh’s waist and leg wedged in between hers as well.

Quynh was not a cuddly sleeper at all, so this alone was a stark sign how relaxed she had to have felt in order to fall asleep entangled like that in the first place. She watched as with every exhale, Andy blew part of her fringe out of her face, only for it to fall back into place immediately, and smiled to herself. The more time she spent with Andy, the less she understood why Joe insisted that she was the scariest person to work at Merrick Industries. (The sexiest, maybe, if female sexuality was the kind of thing that scared you. Which, coming to think of it, might just apply to half the men she’d met at Hampton Manor.)

But in moments like this? Andy was nothing short of _adorable_.

Quynh leaned down to press a kiss on Andy’s forehead, then gently pushed herself up into a seated position. Andy slid off her with barely a snore, and was soon resting on the pillow instead of Quynh’s chest, a hand on Quynh’s thigh.

There was no better way to spend her morning Quynh could think of that wasn’t watching Andy sleep until she woke up. It could be improved upon with a cup of coffee, perhaps. But she had a feeling Nicky might just show up at _some_ point, and when he did, she’d rather not face him basically naked. Or at all, if she was being honest.

The past night had been amazing, but Andy had been right: There were a lot of conversations they needed to have, and telling your best friend that you’d slept with someone else while they were pretending to be with you, might just… complicate things. So with a heavy heart, she slid out of bed and back into her dress.

 _Great._ The only thing that would scream “walk of shame” any more than a huge red dress would be if she hung a sign around her neck that read _I had sex in a stranger’s bed last night_.

She hesitated at the door, looking back over Andy’s sleeping form for just a moment longer, and then another, and then she stepped out into the corridor. The dance the evening before seemed to have gone on long enough that no one was up yet to spot her as she hurried up the stairs, but when she reached the second floor she nearly had a heart attack as she heard steps on the flight of stairs above her.

Heart in her throat, she ducked into the corridor, back to the wall, to wait for whoever it was to pass. For a long time, nothing moved, and she was beginning to think she might have just imagined it in her panic to be discovered. But as she was about to leave the corridor, she did see Nicky peer down and up the stairs from the landing, before making his way back down.

Quynh waited until he’d reached the bottom of the stairs before letting out all the air in her lungs. Turned out she hadn’t left Andy’s room a moment too early.

Checking the stairs twice, she sprinted back to their room where Joe was happily sprawled across the bed, gently snoring and clutching what appeared to be a piece of paper. And like the day before, he also made no motions to wake up as she puttered around him, shedding her dress and transforming herself into looking… a little less well-fucked.

Quynh laughed at herself in the mirror, and her stomach growled. _Right_. Breakfast.

* * *

When Joe woke for the second time, he did actually remember the events of the past night. Still, it was nice to find Nicky had placed a note under his hand to remind him. Anyone should be excused for momentarily repressing that your quasi-boss had had the same terrible idea about surviving a corporate retreat. Although perhaps not so terrible for Joe, he mused, as he replayed Nicky grinding against him in the bathroom the night before.

He smiled and smoothed down Nicky’s note to read it:

_Hi Joe :) It was not a dream! I’ve just gone to get breakfast, come find me when you’re awake. -N x_

That, Joe didn’t need to be told twice. He got up and ready in record time and made his way down to the dining hall.

Once there, he spotted Nicky right away, stirring his coffee with a tiny spoon, but his smile faltered when he realised that Nicky was sharing a table with Andy and Quynh. Which, _of course_ , he would. Joe wasn’t really sure what he’d been hoping for.

A lazy hotel breakfast, a swim in the pool, maybe to suck Nicky off in the shower after? It sounded great, but it would have been the itinerary for a romantic weekend get-away – and not, as he apparently had to remind himself, a still rather corporate couples weekend. Which he was attending with _Quynh_.

So he made sure the smile was firmly back in place, got himself some breakfast and some tea from the buffet, and strolled over to join them at their table.

“Good morning, _honey_.” Joe stood so he could drop a kiss to the top of Quynh’s head while also sneaking a glance at Nicky, who promptly buried his face in his mug. “Did you sleep well?”

Quynh shot him an irritated smile – the same one she used for all his ‘antics’ – but didn’t look at him as she replied: “Exceedingly so, my dear. How about yourself?”

“Can’t complain! Can’t complain at all,” Joe replied cheerily, and went on to butter his piece of toast.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a tired-looking Andy exchanging a confused glance with Quynh, and he remembered that she knew that Quynh knew – but did she know that he knew? If she had told Nicky but not him, he was sure there must be a reason. But why had she told Quynh then?

“Joe, we were actually just discussing something that we’d like your take on as well,” Quynh interrupted his train of thought. “Nicky and I were talking about this launch yesterday, and I guess both from a legal and a medical perspective we have some concerns the… validity of it, shall we say.”

Joe looked from Quynh to Nicky and back, both of whom were looking at him with equally serious expressions on their faces. This was… quite the sea change to where he had thought this morning might go. He swallowed his toast.

“How so?”

In hushed tones, Quynh explained to him what Kozak had told her in the spa the day before, but a lot of it went straight over his head, and not just because he’d basically been half asleep during her lecture. But particularly when Quynh started to throw around words like “human trials”, “complete ignorance of current governance guidelines” and “ethically reprehensible” he could tell that it was… bad.

“So just to get this straight,” Joe asked when she was done, “you’re suggesting that Merrick Industries is in the process of launch a drug to market that _hasn’t_ been tested properly or has been tested in an unethical way?”

“Maybe both,” Nicky said, “but for what the drug suggests it does, which is some _miraculous_ treatment that is supposed to prolong both your cognitive and physical function, you’d expect it to have been very rigorous-“

“-and not a rush job that can launch within three months,” Andy finished his sentence, setting her cup down. She met Joe’s eyes over the table. “Remember _that_ board meeting? No one in the room had even heard of _Vetupraesidium_ before that day.”

Joe nodded, and carefully chewed his next piece of toast as he tried to organise the different pieces of information in his mind. He’d always known, objectively, that working for a big pharma company was not… the most ethical way to make one’s money. But he had hoped that it stopped short of actually endangering people’s lives.

“But then why offer treatment and consultations to employees here, today?” he asked.

“Exactly,” Quynh said, “something about this is not right.”

Under the table, Nicky crossed his legs so his foot came to rest against Joe’s calf as he gave him a calming, steady smile.

“But why do you want my take on that?” Joe asked.

“Well,” Andy said, in an equally hushed tone, “before you showed up, Quynh and Nicky here have tried to convince me to get my hands on some official documentation about the research that’s gone into _Vetupraesidium_.”

Joe looked at Quynh, who looked a little sheepish. _Oh_. He could see where this was going.

“And then?”

Quynh cleared her throat. “And then we could sue.”

It was what Joe had thought she would say, but it was still a little shock to hear it. He looked at the piece of toast that he’d accidentally dropped back on his plate.

“What do you think about this?” he asked Andy.

And gave him a long look, and then she said: “I think I’d like to look into getting those documents.”

And to think, that a day ago his main worry had been that Quynh might _poach_ her. Now he was looking at Quynh potentially dragging his employer into a… ruinous lawsuit. He had to laugh. It was all so decidedly, decidedly bizarre.

He took a deep breath. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Quynh asked.

“Okay,” Joe said again, “but what do you need from me?”

“Well,” Andy said, “I think I know a way I can get access to Merrick’s office here, which hopefully has a computer on which we can find some documentation on this drug. But as you mentioned, we’d ideally also need to find out why and how they’re giving this to employees.”

There were three expectant stares levelled at him over the table and Nicky began to move his foot in slow circles against his leg. Then Joe realised what they were asking.

“What? No way,” he said, “I don’t know anything about research ethics or what questions to ask.”

“It’s okay,” Nicky interjected, “I said I can do it.”

Andy snorted. “Nicky, I don’t know how I can say this in the nicest way possible, but sometimes you’re about as subtle as a brick wall. If you show up there and ask some terse questions about how Kozak tested this drug she’ll be onto us immediately. No, it’s better if Joe goes, he’d raise the least amount of suspicion.”

Joe leaned back in his chair and cross his arms in front of his chest. “And how will I know what to ask?”

“Oh, easy,” Quynh said, and smiled at him, as if to say thank, but also as if to assure him that everything was going to be okay. Which, yes Quynh. It better. “We’ll bug you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *chanting* Heist! Heist! Heist! 
> 
> Also don't worry everyone, Joe and Nicky _will_ get to it at some point, I just couldn't in good conscience keep them awake any longer. I've barely survived balls on several hours more sleep than they had ;) And to everyone demanding some slow dancing from both couples, please don't fret. There's two more chapters plus an epilogue to come. <3


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we go on a heist and someone makes up with an old friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think we've established I laugh the most at my own wordplay, so [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l9PxOanFjxQ&ab_channel=FallOutBoyVEVO) is the song I listened to while writing the "heist" chapter ;)

Looking back at the past two days, Joe found it hard to remember what his life before the Merrick Industries _Partners Weekend_ had even been _like_. Who was this person who went for Friday pub lunches with their only work friend and drank slightly too much tea, the carefree design guy who hadn’t been on a date in a while but considered adopting a cat? What happened to him the moment he asked his best friend to do him a slightly ridiculous favour?

Because none of his usual antics would’ve been any indication that he’d be using his Sunday going to a medical consultation of dubious legitimacy, while wearing Quynh’s in-ear Bluetooth headset on a call to a guy training to a be a doctor of actual legitimacy. A guy who turned out to be not quite as straight and taken as Joe had assumed, if the fact he’d literally spent the night in Joe’s arms was anything to go by. Oh, and the clandestine make out session of course. In all honesty, Joe had given up trying to process things.

He rounded a corner in the cellar of Hampton Manor where the consultation rooms were, and saw what looked like a waiting area at the end of the corridor.

“Can you still hear me?” he whispered, and stopped to touch the headset. Quynh had told him not to do that, but it was a hard habit to break.

“I can,” came Nicky’s reply, his voice all liquid vowels in Joe’s ear, and Quynh’s headset somehow made it feel like Nicky had said those words directly into Joe’s neck. How did Quynh manage to have _business_ calls with this thing? “Where are you now?”

“I’m nearly at the consultation rooms. There are some people there so I won’t be able to talk directly to you in second,” Joe said, still hovering at the corner. “Can you talk freely?”

“Me? Yes. I’m all alone sitting by the far side of the pool with what I’m hoping is a virgin cocktail.”

There was a slurping sound over the headset that brought a lot of vaguely unhelpful things to mind.

“So what you’re saying is you’re a Hawaiian shirt short of looking like a dad on holiday?”

“Well if that’s the mental image of your choosing, who says I’m not wearing a Hawaiian shirt?”

_Oh, this was going to be a thing, wasn’t it?_

Joe was vaguely aware that some of the people in the waiting were watching him, and it was only so much he could do not to bite his knuckles at what effectively amounted to a purr from Nicky.

“You’ve definitely got the better deal out of this, you know that?”

Nicky’s voice was all mirth, no mercy. “Why, because I can say anything I want and you will not be able to shut me down?” This was _definitely_ going to be a thing.

He could hear Nicky inhale as if he was going to say something else that might wreck Joe’s composure, but before he did, someone else rounded the corner and bumped into Joe.

“Nile,” Joe said, startled, “what are you doing here?”

“Same as you I imagine,” she replied, “Getting myself some of that free healthcare before I go back to the States.”

Joe blocked her way down the corridor and he could see a sliver of irritation appear on her face.

“Nile,” he said, but trailed off. He couldn’t let her do this, but he didn’t know how to communicate that with an audience and without giving her any details. “What can I say that will convince you not to do this?”

She snorted a laugh. “Uhm, why? It’s just a consultation about some drug, are you worried they’re gonna run out before it’s your turn?”

Joe sighed, and looked over his shoulder to see if anyone else was watching them, then gently took Nile’s shoulder and led her back to the stairs of the cellar.

“Joe, what are you doing?”

“I can’t explain fully, but I’m just going to tell you that I’m not actually here to get a consultation.” He dropped his voice. “The drug Merrick was talking about yesterday might not have been tested properly yet, and I don’t want you to put yourself at risk. If you have an issue that you need some advice on, I’m sure we can find a way to get you some healthcare that doesn’t involve, well. This.”

Nile shook off his hand and looked at him like he’d lost his mind for a long moment, but he didn’t take his eyes off her until he could see her understand that he was being serious.

“O. kay?” She didn’t sound convinced but she looked back up the stairs. “Guess I’ll… see you later then?”

Joe smiled at her. “Yes, definitely. Thank you, Nile.”

Nile nodded at him and took back off, and Joe breathed a sigh of relief. Fucking Merrick and his stupid drug launch. He still didn’t even know what it was supposed to do, but clearly it was tempting enough that even otherwise sensible people considered going for it without this information.

“That was very kind of you,” Nicky’s voice said in his ear.

“Yeah, well,” Joe whispered, and turned to walk back down the corridor towards the waiting area, “I like to think you would have done the same.”

“Oh yes?”

“Yeah. You put me to bed and took my shoes off even though there was absolutely no way you were going to score last night, so,” Joe smiled at the memory, but cut himself off as he came within earshot of the other people in the waiting area.

“Ah yes, that was a real shame,” Nicky said, then waited for a moment, leaving space for Joe to reply that he couldn’t fill. Which meant that- “Maybe it was altruism, maybe I was just waiting for a chance to tell you all the things I was too tired to do to you while you were unable to respond or stop me instead.”

Yeah, Joe had no idea how he’d got to this point. But at least he didn’t run the risk of being bored while waiting.

* * *

When it came right down to it, Andy should have probably seen it coming. Not the part where she began an affair with a woman pretending to be her colleague’s while she, herself was in a pretend relationship – and really, who could see that coming? – but the thing about this company and this job and her last relationship going up in flames and turning her life upside down.

She had lived long enough that some of the years had begun to blend together, that it wasn’t always easy to tell whether something had happened Christmas two or five years ago. There was very little chance of that happening with the year she’d spent at Merrick Industries.

Maybe that was the reason she’d accepted the job offer. Maybe she’d just been bored. (Her being bored didn’t usually result in her upending her entire life, but it wasn’t unheard of.)

On the upside, it meant she was filled with a strange sense of clarity when she stalked up the stairs to Merrick’s home office at Hampton Manor. The year before, he’d brought her there for what amounted to an impromptu job interview after Lykon didn’t stop talking to Merrick about her accomplishments. God, she really _had_ been bored.

And the worst part was that the job and subsequent explosion of her social life didn’t even seem to have solved the issue, if the fact that she was breaking into said office a year later to potentially steal company information was anything to go by.

Only Andy loved it, was the problem. She was tired, but when Quynh and Nicky had brought up the issue and laid out a plan – for Joe to go for a pretend consultation with Nicky on remote counsel, and Quynh to keep an eye on Merrick’s activity while she went looking for information on the research – she felt more alive than she had in years.

She picked the lock to Merrick’s office with a hair pin (a skill every woman should have, in her opinion) and closed the door behind her. There was no word from Quynh, so she was good to explore for a bit.

Merrick favoured a certain type of pretentious minimalism, made to look somehow grotesque by the fact that every single piece of furniture was oversized. What was the point of minimalism if your desk took up over six square feet of your office?

Andy tried to move the gigantic office chair to push it in front of the door, but it was too heavy to be inconspicuously moved, and time was more important than utter discretion. She booted up the computer, then starting going through some of the desk drawers. The office was largely empty apart from some bizarre wall art and bronze statues, and Andy realised why once she opened the wall cupboard. It was because Merrick seemed to organise everything the exact same way a teenage boy did; there were huge stacks of random documents piling up, brochures and cables mixed with hoodies and even a couple of stray tablets.

Andy sighed and stepped into the cupboard to look at some of the documents. They were recent and they said the word research on them, but that didn’t necessarily mean that they were going to be relevant. There also were way too many of them. This was definitely more of a two person job. (And that was the only reason she texted Quynh, of course.)

_Do you have another big dress that’s maybe a bit less extravagant than yesterday’s you could wear?_

_I’m just going to tell you now that that is the weirdest sext I have ever received_ , came the reply a second later.

Andy rolled her eyes but smiled at her phone. _I think we need to discreetly steal some of these documents. Would you be okay to come up here for a second?_

_Sure, let me get changed for you_ _😜_

Andy laughed a little, then stifled herself. She shouldn’t really, only it was delightful, it felt so easy. Were things supposed to feel this easy with someone you knew two days? She didn’t know, but she hoped so.

Slipping her phone back into her pocket, Andy left the cupboard in favour of Merrick’s computer and used the universal admin password to log in. It booted up fine, and she could access all the files on the main drive, but those were the files she had access to from her own work laptop. What she couldn’t access were the files on the hard drive of _this_ specific computer and she had a feeling that those were going to be a whole lot more interesting. Only. Logging into a computer was usually as far as Andy went with technology. She despised most of it – and quite passionately, too! – and this situation, unfortunately, called for someone who knew what they were doing. So naturally, she called Booker.

“Andy! What can I-“

“Booker,” she cut him off, her voice perhaps a tad too low and intense for a casual conversation, “say someone hypothetically needed access to the personal account of a Merrick Industries’ employee that wasn’t their own, would you be able to help them?”

Andy waited a second or two for Booker to stop laughing.

“Purely hypothetically, of course,” he said finally, clearing his throat, “I might be in a position where I _could_ help them, but it would be highly unethical and somewhat against my contract to do so.”

“Of course,” Andy said, “only this particular scenario would actually ethically require you to help that person.”

“I see,” Booker said, and thankfully still sounded somewhat amused, “whose account is it who the person in this entirely fictional scenario needs access to?”

“Steven Merrick?”

That was the point Booker began to swear. “Andy, do you know what you’re doing?”

“One hundred percent.” And for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t even a lie.

Booker swore some more. “Okay, I’ll see what I can do. But just for the record? It is _hypothetically_ easier to just cut off someone’s goddamn finger and access their accounts with the thumb scanner than hack a password in this organisation.”

Andy laughed at that, and crossed her fingers that he wouldn’t be too mad. “Thank you, Book. I will explain later.”

Booker sighed. “Buy me a pint with it and we’re even for the other thing?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Andy hung up to the sound of the office door opening. Her heartbeat shot up for a second before she realised it was just Quynh ducking into the room in a pair of the most ridiculously large pair of harem pants she had ever seen. At least on a person as tiny as Quynh.

“Ta-daa,” Quynh whispered, and struck a pose with them. Her smile was goofy even as her face was tense and Andy wanted to kiss every inch of it. “Where are the documents?”

Andy gestured to the cupboard. “It’s a mess though.”

Quynh nodded and climbed over the first stack of papers to look at a shelf at the back of the cupboard. Images of the previous night flooded Andy’s mind, how she’d pressed Quynh against a shelf just like that in the dark, and she had to grip the table for a moment to steady herself. This was _so_ not the time.

“You said this was rushed through in the past three months?” Quynh asked.

Andy nodded.

“Okay, I’m going to discard all of the folders that look like they’ve been here for years then,” Quynh said, and reached for a pile of documents towards the front of the cupboard. She sat down on the floor and began to flick through them, holding another stack out for Andy. But just when Andy got up and reached to grab it, Quynh looked up at her with sudden panic in her eyes.

“Are those footsteps?”

Andy swallowed. Merrick was the paranoid sort – a not entirely irrational character trait – so every door in the manor came with a peephole. She got up from where she’d been crouching to squint through it and to a feeling that was a mix of shock and relief saw Lykon of all people coming towards them.

This was not ideal. Well, it was the opposite of ideal. But it was also a situation she could deal with.

“Quynh,” she asked, turning back to the cupboard, “do you trust me?”

Quynh looked up at her with wide eyes, and a mix of emotions that Andy wished she knew how to read better. There was confusion, and fear, but also – or at least Andy liked to think so – a smattering of hope. “Yes.”

“Thank you,” Andy said, and leaned down to kiss her before closing the cupboard door in front of her.

* * *

After Joe had gone to the toilet for the third time in the span of fifteen minutes to beg Nicky (very unconvincingly) to please stop or he was going to have to do something he never thought he’d do in public, they were quietly hanging out on the phone, Nicky by the pool and Joe in the waiting room. Nicky had worried that it might be awkward, but was happy to find that it wasn’t so. He’d enjoyed teasing Joe, but the truth was, Nicky was only a good conversationalist if he had somebody to talk with, not just to, and he would always prefer the sound of silence to that of his own voice.

 _Someone’s very excited to meet her UNCLE_ , Mia texted him alongside a picture of Paolo holding a very shocked looking Elena, but from what Nicky knew about babies, that was about the extent of excitement they could muster at one day old.

 _SOON_ _✈️_ _✈️_ _✈️_ , he texted back, and realised that for the first time this weekend he checked the hours remaining until his flight with a slightly heavy heart. He desperately wanted to meet his niece, and the sooner he could stop having to refer to himself as Andy’s partner, the better. But when he’d woken up that morning, he’d very suddenly wanted to stay, just this extra day, when before he’d so been looking forward to leaving.

It was just that somehow he’d gotten tangled up in the beginning of something with Joe that felt oddly precious to him. For all that it seemed complicated given how they’d met, whenever it was just the two of them, things were… clear, to Nicky. And that didn’t have to end if he left for a week, but he was worried it might take the momentum out of whatever they were hurtling towards, and that could be _great_ for relationships, slowing down, but it could also be the opposite.

And Nicky didn’t want to hit pause. Now that he’d woken up next to Joe, knew what it was like to kiss him and make him smile, all Nicky wanted was _more_. He wanted to learn more about Joe, his family and how he drank his tea, he wanted to make him moan and watch him come apart, and leaving the country seemed somewhat counterproductive to that.

“Joe,” he started, but he didn’t quite know where he was going to go with it. “Uh, I know you can’t answer right now, but I just wanted to ask, or rather say that-“

“Dr Kozak,” Joe cut him off, and it took Nicky a moment to register that Joe wasn’t talking to him, “thank you for seeing me.”

There were some shuffling noises on the other end of the line, and Nicky filed the conversation he’d nearly started all by himself away for later. There was a consultation he needed to focus on.

“Oh no, the pleasure is all mine,” Nicky heard Dr Kozak say, her voice more tinny than Joe’s over his speakers, “Those were some very inspirational words yesterday, and I’m so glad you want to try _Vetupraesidium_ for yourself. It is the kind of cutting edge treatment that Merrick Industries is known for, and will absolutely prolong your life and its quality.”

“Yeah, but so might a medically induced coma,” Nicky found himself saying. The great thing about listening in to this conversation on the phone was that Nicky could say and do what he wanted, but he realised he should maybe hold back the tiniest bit for Joe’s benefit, who was currently trying to cover up his laugh as a coughing fit.

Dr Kozak offered him some water and then said: “Let’s start with a general medical assessment to see if this is suitable for you though. Do you have any repeat prescriptions?”

So far, so good, Nicky thought. It was all very standard stuff Dr Kozak went through with Joe, no questions a GP wouldn’t ask on a first visit, but the setting of a corporate away weekend made it decidedly weird. As did the fact that Nicky was listening in to the conversation.

He supposed Joe could lie, since he wasn’t actually there for the treatment, but if not, it was a lot of information you wouldn’t usually have after only one date.

“Do you smoke?” Dr Kozak asked.

“No.”

“How many units of alcohol do you have in an average week?”

“Less than one? I only really drink on special occasions.”

Nicky felt strangely flattered that apparently them staying awake all night at this corporate retreat counted as a special occasion for Joe.

“When was the last time you’ve had sexual intercourse?”

“How is that relevant to this treatment?” Joe asked, and Nicky could practically _see_ him squirming, a mental image that shouldn’t manage to be both adorable and strangely arousing, but such was Nicky’s life at the moment.

“Oh this is just a general medical assessment,” Dr Kozak said, “And I should mention that this is also all 100% confidential, I am trained medical professional.”

“Come on, Joe, answer her question, she is a fully trained medical professional,” Nicky teased, because he could, and because he needed to remind Joe that it was okay to lie if he didn’t want either of them to know these things.

Joe cleared his throat. “Uhm, I can’t really remember, sorry, it’s been a while.”

“Interesting,” Nicky said, but not so much about Joe’s revelation, as about Dr Kozak’s. If she was a fully trained medical professional in the UK, and allowed to practice, more importantly, then she’d have to be registered with the General Medical Council. Only when Nicky pulled up the GMC’s website on his phone to check her name, he found not a single entry with her name.

* * *

Objectively speaking, the situation was pretty bad. There Quynh was, locked in a cupboard (and who thought _that_ was going to be a thing to happen twice in under 24 hours?) in the office of a potentially crooked CEO, chiefly to steal some documents of said crooked CEO, while Andy was still outside and they were on the verge of being discovered. She didn’t know what Andy had planned and even though she knew that it wasn’t going to be straightforward, talking themselves out of this one, she found that she didn’t much care.

Her heart was in her throat, sure, but when Andy asked if she trusted her, well. She’d meant it when she said yes. There was just something about Andy, the intensity in her eyes, the assured confidence with which she moved through the world, that Quynh was willing to bet had inspired devotion in better people. (Or at least people whose thighs didn’t still shake at the memory of having Andy’s fingers on them.)

The slats in the cupboard doors let in enough light for her to still read the documents and if she leaned forward, Quynh could also get a good view of the room through the slit between them. Andy was leaning against the wall behind the door and nothing on her face betrayed that her being there was anything out of the ordinary. Quynh waited with bated breath as the steps came closer to the door, and someone fiddled with a key for second before pushing open the door.

It was Andy’s ex-boyfriend, Lykon. Quynh wasn’t sure whether to be worried or relieved. Merrick would have been worse, no doubt, but out of all the people who might have walked through those doors, he was probably the one she was the least happy seeing. Not that she had any reason to, but feelings like this did not always listen to logic.

Lykon made for the desk and Merrick’s computer, but whirled around when Andy kicked the door shut behind him.

“Hello Lykon,” she said, and smiled at him, and _oh_. Quynh hadn’t understood before why people were scared of Andy. She did now.

“Jeez, Andy, you nearly gave me a heart attack.” Lykon was holding something in his fist, but Quynh couldn’t quite see what it was as he pressed it to his chest.

“What are you doing here?” Andy asked.

Lykon rolled his eyes. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“But you didn’t.” Andy pushed off the wall and whipped her phone out of her pocket. “And I’m the press of a button away from calling Merrick and telling him you stole his keys to break into his office, and then it will be my word against yours, so. Why don’t we avoid all that and you just tell me now?”

“You always were a little terrifying, you know that?”

Andy had pushed off the wall and taken a few steps to lean on the desk as she smiled at Lykon like a cat that was about to have an awful lot of fun with a mouse before she was going to kill it. Quynh had to shuffle around a little bit to still be able to see both of them, because there was no way she’d be able to look away.

“So I’ve been told,” Andy said, and if it hadn’t been the worst thing to do that moment, Quynh might have jumped out of the cupboard to demand she take her right there and then on Merrick’s desk.

Lykon had the audacity to roll his eyes at that. “Okay, since you asked so nicely, I will tell you.” He showed Andy the USB stick he’d been holding in his fist. “As you may remember, I’ve been handling the final sign-off of everything to do with customer service since-“ he made a gesture that Quynh assumed meant ‘our break-up’, “and unfortunately, Copley was only able to get me finalised FAQs ahead of the launch today. And so it doesn’t look like we’ve been working through the _Partners Weekend_ , because you know how Merrick takes _that_ , I’ve agreed to upload them to Merrick’s computer so it’ll look like everything’s been ready all along. Happy?”

Andy looked anything but, and Quynh had a feeling she was going to witness a fight. A fight that was going to be about something work related, but would _actually_ be about something else entirely and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to be there for that. She turned her attention back to the documents in her lap and began to read through something that looked like Group Insurance policies. Not in the least bit interesting enough to distract her from the whispered conversation that should have probably been a shouting match on the other side of the cupboard doors.

“I’m sorry, have you been to the office lately? Or do you just swan in once a week and glare at everyone? We’ve all been rushing shit through.”

“Well, _I_ haven’t,” Andy sounded terse, “I’ve been busy tidying up everyone’s mess when details begin to slip through the cracks.”

Lykon scoffed. “Is that what you’re doing here.”

“Sure.”

“Well, thank you ever so fucking much, do you mind if I get on with this?”

Quynh looked back up to see Lykon move towards Merrick’s computer, and Andy’s hand close around his wrist.

“What?” he asked.

“Lykon, it’s fine, I can- I can do it.”

He pulled free of Andy’s grip. “Not if you’re going to complain that you’re just cleaning up ‘my mess’ again, which, might I add, is exactly why we divvied up responsibilities, because this constant conflict is what drove us apart in the first place-“

“Lykon, Lykon! Look at me,” Andy interrupted him, a little louder than before, and Quynh’s ears were burning. She didn’t want to be here for this, as much as she wanted to know _how_ and _why_ they had broken up. She didn’t want it to be awkward for Andy, and this… this was all the stages of awkwardness.

“Look, I’m sorry,” Andy said, and Quynh had a feeling it wasn’t only for Lykon.

“About trying to my job away from me?”

“No, not that. Although that was probably the beginning of the end.” Andy pushed her fringe out of her eyes. “I’m sorry for taking this job in the first place. I think we both knew it was going to be the death knell for our relationship, but I still went with it and that is on me.”

The Group Insurance policies suddenly became very, very interesting, even as Quynh strained not to miss a word.

“No,” Lykon said. “It’s as you said. We both knew, and I could have handled you being better at my job with a whole lot more dignity than I did, I think. Or we should have broken up before it all got so-”

He stopped there and Quynh looked up to see Andy nodding. “I don’t think it was meant to be.”

Lykon smiled at that and Quynh didn’t know why she felt so relieved.

“Can you keep a secret?” Andy asked after a moment, and Quynh could feel herself tensing all over. Andy might have all sorts of reasons to trust or not trust Lykon, but letting another person in on this little scheme just like that was way too risky.

“I’m going to leave Merrick again,” Andy said after Lykon had nodded, “Not because of you, I should say, but well. We weren’t the only thing that just wasn’t meant to be.”

“Oh well, that’s quite the secret.” Lykon sounded surprised. “How come? Got an offer from somewhere else?”

Andy’s eyes didn’t flick over to the cupboard, but they didn’t need. “I’d like to think so,” she said. “It’s nothing serious yet, but… I hope it will be.”

Quynh clamped her hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp. They’d said they’d talk, talk _properly_ after the weekend, and Quynh had dreaded that moment a little bit, the uncertainty of every pre-arranged talk looming over her head. Only all of a sudden, the talk couldn’t come fast enough. She couldn’t wait to get out of this cupboard.

“I just thought I’d let you know so you can maybe make some alternative arrangements for yourself as well,” Andy said.

“I appreciate that.”

“You’re welcome.” Lykon and Andy smiled at each other for a moment that felt like a hard-fought for truce, before Andy reached out for the USB-stick again. “Now give me that stick and I’ll upload the documents for you. Consider it my parting gift, if you must.”

Lykon laughed and rolled his eyes, but handed the stick over. “Never change, Andy.”

Quynh quietly counted to ten after she heard the door click shut behind him before she kicked open the door and poured herself into Andy’s lap on the desk chair.

“Is everything okay?” Andy asked, but it was all Quynh let her say before she leaned down to kiss her as thoroughly as she could in the shortest time possible.

“Yes,” she whispered against Andy’s lips after, “And in other good news, I think I might have figured out why they’re giving this drug to their own employees even if it hasn’t been tested properly.”

If there was one thing Quynh knew how to read even half-asleep or distracted, it was contracts. And there was nothing that made her more suspicious than blanket agreements to insure against undefined risk.

“What is it?” Andy asked, and kissed her again.

“Merrick’s hashed out a deal with a group insurer to take on the exclusive risk of insuring a pool of his most senior employees for an undefined but exhaustive cover and an indefinite amount of time, which sounds like it would be a great thing to have if you’re being given a drug that might artificially prolong your life and cognitive function.”

Andy squinted up at her in confusion.

“It might be a scheme to guarantee his top employees will work for Merrick Industries forever because the drug will prolong their life and cognitive function, but could cause complex health problems they will only be insured for if they work for him.”

She climbed off Andy and showed her the policy before taking a picture on her phone. Andy read the policy for a few seconds, then smiled and pulled Quynh close to her with her arm around Quynh’s hips.

“So what you’re saying is, it was a complete waste to make you change into these gigantic pants because a single phone picture would have been enough?”

“Was it a waste or will you feel a special sense of accomplishment when I let you take them off later?”

They both laughed into their kiss, and Quynh’s heart was full, full, full.

* * *

Joe had promised Quynh a favour in exchange for accompanying him to this mad weekend, but even only after Dr Kozak’s “general medical assessment”, which for some reason included having him weighed and measured like he was Captain America, he felt like he had _at least_ earned a favour back.

He wasn’t sure if Nicky could hear everything that she was asking him to do, but he felt like it might be important to, since Nicky was the one of the two of them who knew what was appropriate. So he’d started repeating every single instruction Dr Kozak gave him back at her as a question, up to the point that he was pretty sure she now thought he might be a little slow.

Nicky had been quiet for a while apart from the odd unsteady breath in Joe’s ear, and it worried Joe, but there wasn’t really anything he could do to check what was happening.

“Right, that’s all perfect, thanks Joe,” Dr Kozak said finally and let him sit back down. She rummaged around in a drawer and placed a small plastic cup with two bright red pills in it in front of him. “Here’s your first dose, feel free to help yourself to some water.”

“ _Don’t_ take anything she gives you,” Nicky’s voice was very sharp in his ear all of a sudden, and Joe was glad he hadn’t placed the pills in his mouth yet, because he probably would have been startled enough to swallow them by accident. “Can you ask her about the possible side effects, what the reactions during the most recent trial series were like?”

Joe coughed a little to himself and reached for a glass of water. “Are there any possible side effects I need to know of before I take this?”

Dr Kozak looked at him over the form she’d been filling out on her desk. “Why do you ask?”

“Say you get migraines and want to be careful,” Nicky said almost immediately in his ear, which was a relief. So he had been following everything that was going on.

“I suffer from migraines from time to time, and my GP’s told me to be careful with new medication.”

“Ah, no, this isn’t birth control, you’ll be fine.” Dr Kozak waved her hand at him dismissively even as she smiled, and if Joe hadn’t already been creeped out, he would be now.

“So there are no side effects at all?”

“No, don’t worry, the only thing this pill is going to do is slow your cognitive decline.”

Joe fished the two pills out of the plastic cup and dropped them down his sleeve as he pretended to swallow them. In his ear, he could hear Nicky groan.

“Unless she’s giving you a placebo, that is impossible. Please don’t take these pills, Joe. I don’t know what this woman is doing, but the sooner you can get out there, the better.”

His voice was sincere and full of concern, and Joe would have been extremely touched if he didn’t increasingly feel that the concern was warranted.

Dr Kozak scribbled something on her form then reached into her drawer again and placed a pack of pills in front of him.

“Well, Yusuf, you’re a healthy young man, so we’re starting you on a dose of two tablets per day. You can either take both in the morning, or one in the morning and one in the evening, however you prefer, and I’m also going to book you in for two small medical procedures to complement your treatment at our lab.”

“What lab is this?” Nicky said in Joe’s ear.

“Is this in our lab at the office?” Joe asked Dr Kozak.

“Yes,” she replied, and winked at him, “you can even do them on work time.”

Nicky cleared his throat. “This doesn’t exactly sound like it would independently verified to me.”

Joe began to realise that Nicky turned to sarcastic statements the angrier he got, and found himself agreeing with Andy’s choice of sending _him_ into this consultation instead.

“Who’s going to be carrying out the procedure?” Joe asked Dr Kozak in an attempt to translate Nicky’s thoughts.

“Either me or one of our senior practitioners, don’t worry, we’ve got a small but very capable team. When would you be free?”

“Has she mentioned what this procedure is going to be yet?” Nicky asked in Joe’s ear, “At the moment it sounds like anything from blood tests to an amputation is in the cards.”

“Let me check my calendar.” Joe took his phone out of his pocket and kept it under the desk so as not to show her that he was on a call. “How long is this procedure roughly going to take?”

“The first one is a quick blood test to see how well you’re responding to the drug, so we don’t need you for more than ten minutes for that. Then the second one are a number of collagen injections to keep you looking all fresh and pretty as you are now.”

Dr Kozak smiled at Joe, and he could practically hear Nicky roll his eyes, the annoyance radiating off him even through the phone.

“I mean, I appreciate the sentiment,” Nicky said in his ear, “but this is getting ridiculous. She hasn’t told you anything about what actual long-term impacts this drug is going to have on your physical and mental wellbeing, which means you can’t give any informed consent relating to the treatment, which she also hasn’t asked for in the first place. I know this is your workplace, Joe, I’m sorry, but I cannot believe this is a 21st century company listed on the London Stock Market and actually operating like this. How are they planning to cover up this much incompetence?”

Joe listened to Nicky rant with half an ear while setting up his two “procedures” that he was never going to go to with Dr Kozak. At this point, all he wanted to do was get out of this weird basement consultation room and join Nicky at the pool where he could rant to him in person. Maybe find a place where he could curl into his chest and not think about anything for a moment.

He thanked Dr Kozak and turned to leave, but before he could, she said: “Oh Yusuf, before I forget, this is proprietary research, so I’ll need you to sign this before you leave.”

She pushed a form and pen at him and Joe skimmed over the first couple of sentences. Well, at least it answered Nicky’s question on how they were planning to cover up any incompetence – in front of him was an NDA.

And Joe was willing to bet he was already breaking it.

* * *

There was a reason why people generally didn’t start to make out with each other when they were staging a break in. (Although Andy could see why adrenaline junkies… might.)

Quynh and her had tried to keep it brief, really, but it had taken a while before she’d gotten the USB-stick to work and then she’d had to call Booker an extra time to make sure the fact she was making some copies of confidential documents wouldn’t be detected, and then it was suddenly and awful lot later than she hoped it would be. She still had to drive Nicky to the airport.

“Have you got everything?” Quynh asked for the third time, and finally, Andy could nod and be right. They turned to leave, and just to be sure, Andy used the peephole to check the corridor in front of them.

“Oh, fuck.”

“What is it?” Quynh whispered.

Merrick and Keane were walking towards the office, and there was no way Andy could smooth talk them. Lykon had been a stretch already, but clearly, her luck was running out. Fast.

She tried to communicate this to Quynh with nothing but her eyes, but the panic was rising, and fast. The cupboard had worked once, but it was a risky strategy to rely on twice, and there was only one other door to the office.

Quynh tried the handle, which miraculously gave way to a gigantic attic bedroom. Andy and Quynh exchanged a glance. There wasn’t really any other option.

“I don’t care, Keane, I just need the announcement to go down with a big enough impact to get investors interested, and then I need some results solid enough not to scare them away. The rest is _literally_ semantics.”

Andy closed the door behind them just as Merrick and Keane stepped into the office, and for a moment she sank to the floor. She felt like she had to catch her breath, like she’d run a mile or more, but it was just the nerves.

The door to the bedroom was wooden but reinforced and when Andy leaned against it, she couldn’t hear what was going on in the office. This was not good.

When she turned to look for Quynh, Quynh was beckoning her from the other side of the room. She’d found a balcony, and Andy tiptoed, not breathing, hoping the door shielded sound two ways, to join Quynh. There was a spot on the floor where they wouldn’t be seen if someone was only looking casually, and they sat shoulder to shoulder, breathing harshly, but every time Andy looked at Quynh she couldn’t help but smile.

“Where do we go from here?” Quynh mouthed, and Andy peered through the slats of the balcony to judge how far they were from the ground. It wasn’t worth considering.

“Looks like we’re stuck for now,” Andy said, and felt around in her pocket for her phone, so she could ask Nicky to text them when the coast was clear.

Only, of course- There were around 20 unread messages on her phone. Three missed calls. “Fuck.”

* * *

Nicky waited for Joe at the stairs leading to the consultation rooms in the basement, although perhaps waiting was a relaxed term for what amounted to quite a bit of pacing.

He was glad there was no one around, because it meant he could pull Joe into a hug the second he reached the top of the stairs, at least one source of anxiety quelled.

“I’m very glad you’re out of there,” he said into Joe’s neck, letting the scent roll over him like a comforting blanket. “I’m still not quite sure what exactly it is they’re doing, but it’s not right.”

Joe squeezed him tightly, then took a step back and traced his knuckles over Nicky’s cheek, although he didn’t linger, they were still in public. “And that’s all we needed right?”

Nicky shrugged. “I guess.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not actually going to go to these procedures.”

“I wasn’t,” Nicky said, but it all felt a bit much all of a sudden, and he checked his phone again. He still didn’t have a reply.

“Then what’s with the anguished face?” Joe’s smile felt like hug, and Nicky wanted nothing more than to pull him into a dark corner and kiss him some more, but he had places to be. He sighed.

“Andy was supposed to drive me to the airport, but she’s not back yet and she hasn’t answered any of my texts, so I’m worried I might miss my flight.”

“Is this to go back to Italy? To see Elena?”

Nicky nodded, worrying his lip. He checked his phone again, but there was still nothing.

“Hey, that’s okay.” Joe touched his arm. “I can drive you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Nicky make his flight? Will Andy and Quynh ever get off that balcony to take Merrick down? Will they ever figure out that they've all started screwing behind each other's backs, and most importantly, will Nicky and Joe actually manage to get to that part? Tune in next time, when the "Partners Weekend" reaches its stunning conclusion! ;)
> 
> Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who's ever commented on this or left kudos or bookmarked this or sent me a sweet message - I love and appreciate you all so much, and I'm so glad you're all here with me as the mess unfolds. <33


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the weekend at Hampton Manor draws to a close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first started writing this fic, I didn't really know how it was going to end. I had a vague image of Joe jumping into a swimming pool, firing a machine gun while somehow also kissing Nicky simultaneously in my head, and it's the _energy_ that I want to say has guided this fic. But this is not that ;)
> 
> Also, tiny disclaimer: I am neither a legal nor a medical professional and can't guarantee that all the information in this chapter is accurate. (And even if I was, maybe fanfic is not be the best replacement for professional advice in both of those areas anyway.)

Andy hadn’t forgotten about driving Nicky to the airport – it was quite hard to forget, when almost every conversation they’d had over the past week had been updates about Mia and now Elena – she’d just thought she had a little more _time_. No wonder Merrick almost walked in on her and Quynh. Time had completely gotten away from them.

She looked up at the window. “Do you think they’d be able to hear us in there, if they come in?”

“I don’t know,” Quynh said in a hushed tone, “why?”

Andy held up her phone. “I’m supposed to be driving Nicky to the airport… right about now.”

Quynh craned her neck to peer through the balcony. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s in there at the moment. I’ll keep watch, just keep it down.”

Nicky, luckily, picked up on the second ring. “Andy. Is everything okay?” There was quite a lot of background noise on his end.

“I’m so, so sorry, Nicky,” she said by way of hello, “I lost track of time going through some of the files on Merrick’s computer, and I was just on the way down when Merrick and Keane came into the office.”

“Where are you?” Nicky sounded alarmed. “Are you in trouble?”

“Not yet, anyway,” Andy huffed a laugh. “Managed to sneak from his office to his bedroom and onto a balcony, but I can’t tell from here when he’s going to leave, so it looks like I’m… stuck, for now.”

“Do you need help?”

“Never mind me, I’m supposed to be driving you to the airport! Don’t you have a flight to catch?”

“Yes, I’m already on the way. Joe offered to drive me when you didn’t pick up.” So that was the background noise, the rushing of a car engine on the motorway.

Andy breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, that’s great. I’m so sorry Nicky, I know I promised.”

“It’s okay, really, don’t worry. Is your phone battery okay? Do you want me or Joe to call Quynh; wasn’t she on Merrick look out anyway?”

Andy looked over at Quynh, who, indeed, was very much on Merrick look out. “Phone battery’s fine.” She sighed. “Quynh is here with me.”

“Oh.”

“Do you have Nile’s number, Andy?” Joe joined their conversation; Nicky must have put her on loudspeaker. “I can give Nicky my phone and he can text it to you. She’s pretty much in charge of whatever the schedule is for this weekend, so she should be able to either create a diversion for you or let you know when the coast is clear.”

“That’d be great, thank you Joe.”

Andy reached out and tentatively placed her hand on Quynh’s thigh. Quynh’s hand closed over hers and she turned to wink at Andy over her shoulder. It was okay, they were going to be fine, they were going to get away, but now she didn’t have to, there was no place Andy would rather be than right next to her.

“Did you manage to find some information on _Vetupraesidium_ though?” Nicky asked.

“Yes,” Andy said, “I’m going to hand you over to Quynh, she’ll explain better than I can.”

She listened to Quynh explain her theory about the group insurance policies and creating what could be an immortal but uninsurable workforce, leaning close so she could still hear Nicky’s voice over the tinny speakers.

“That is sinister,” he said. “Did you know that Dr Kozak is not licensed with the General Medical Council?”

“What?” Andy’s heart sank. “Of course not, I’d never have asked Joe to go to that consultation. Is he okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Joe said, “but she _told_ me she was a medical professional!”

Quynh scoffed. “We’re talking about a woman who seems to have no qualms about her colleagues being lab rats for some grand new treatment that Merrick needs investment for.”

“What, so she thinks I’m a mouse?” Joe sounded indignant, and Andy could hear Nicky huff a small laugh over the speaker.

“I’m not sure if she was thinking at all,” Nicky said, “But if she had a license she wouldn’t have it much longer, she broke about thirty articles of the Declaration of Helsinki in that single consultation she’s had with Joe alone. I don’t want to imagine what this would look like rolled-out on a wider scale. Somebody needs to stop them.”

“We will,” Andy said, even as she had no idea what that would like in concrete terms. How did one become a whistleblower?

“We just need to get this out there somehow,” Quynh said, “We’ve got another day before they go public, right?”

Andy nodded, but she could hear someone on the other end of the line exhale through their teeth.

“Yeah, there’s only one problem with that,” Joe said, “Kozak made me sign an NDA, and a lot of the information is going to point back to me no matter what we do, right?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Quynh said, and her voice became incredibly soft at his worried tone. “An NDA is only valid if it’s protecting proprietary information about a company and its processes. If those processes are illegal, the fact that they made you sign one in the first place is basically almost an admission of guilt. Do you still have a copy? This is brilliant.”

“Yeah,” Joe said, small and relieved, like he’d also just realised that they were at the start of something new. Something that was bigger than them, but it was out of their hands now.

“I haven’t been a practicing lawyer in a long time.” Quynh sighed, but like a child giddy with the prospect of Christmas might. “But I think we’ve got enough to go on to start pulling a case against them together, as soon as… Well. As soon as we get off this balcony.”

“Let me know if you need any help,” Nicky offered, “I’m in Italy for two weeks, but we’ve got phone signal there and everything.”

“Of course,” Quynh chuckled. She squeezed Andy’s hand. “Thanks for your help, hope you have a good flight. And be nice to Joe.”

“Always,” Nicky said, but it sounded strangely like he’d swallowed his tongue, and Andy wasn’t sure what exactly he was referring to. “Thank you.”

Quynh hung up and handed the phone back to Andy. They sat there for a moment, just looking at each other, before Andy’s phone lit up with a text message from Nicky.

It was Nile’s number.

It was happening.

* * *

The drive from Hampton Manor to Heathrow Airport wasn’t long, but every mile felt like another reality check to Joe. It was possible that he’d lost his mind the moment he and Quynh had stepped out of the car just two days before, and it was only now returning in increments. There was simply no other explanation for half the things that had happened since. It was supposed to be an opportunity that might change his life. He glanced over at Nicky, who was looking out of the window but smiled at him when he noticed. Joe didn’t think it had changed his life in the way he’d intended.

“You’re quiet,” Nicky observed. “What’s on your mind?”

Joe didn’t even know where to begin, thoughts jumbling over one another as he clutched the steering wheel and let out what was supposed to be a huff of laughter, but sounded more like a shriek.

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t-“

“No, no, it’s fine, I want to,” Joe said. He sighed and pushed his hair out of his face. “Did I tell you why I asked Quynh to come with me and pretend to be my wife for this weekend?”

Nicky shook his head, but there was a small, encouraging smile on his face.

“I thought it would be a great way to get promoted,” Joe said, shaking his head. “I couldn’t come without a partner, and it was supposed to be a great opportunity to rub shoulders with the people who mattered.”

“I didn’t know you wanted-“ Nicky looked away from him, but Joe could see that a small line had appeared between his brows. “I didn’t realise you liked working at Merrick Industries.”

“Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no,” Joe said, and he actually managed to laugh this time, “I don’t think anyone actually _likes_ working for Merrick, least of all me. But a promotion means more money, enough that I could comfortably scale down my hours and have more time for my own business on the side until I was established enough to leave. I really thought-“ he interrupted himself, not quite known where he was going with this.

Nicky had turned back to look at him, although Joe could tell that he was still confused, which Joe didn’t begrudge him. So was he.

“I don’t know what I thought anymore,” Joe continued, “It’s not that I even care for Merrick, I’d be happy for Quynh to take him down, he’s always been a prick and it’s strangely vindicating to know his practices were unethical all along. It’s just. I-“

“You put in a lot of work and now you feel like you have jeopardised your dream.” Nicky blinked up at him expectantly, but Joe didn’t even need to tell him that he’d hit the nail on the head. Nicky smiled his small smile again and placed his hand on Joe’s thigh where it lay like a warm and steady blanket. “Can I ask you a question?”

Joe nodded.

“What’s stopping you from quitting now and just going for it, with your own business?”

Joe exhaled noisily and shook his head, smiling in disbelief. He felt like he should have known that Nicky would be one of those people who had an uncanny knack for putting the questions others were only just skirting around straight out there. And he knew he didn’t _have_ to, but there was just something about Nicky that made him want to be honest.

“I don’t know,” he said, eyes on the road. “The security, I guess. To have something to fall back on in case it all fails.”

Nicky’s thumb was rubbing soothing circles over Joe’s thigh. “That sounds very sensible,” he said.

Joe shot him a look, because he had to know what he was being like. “But?”

“But.” Nicky smiled, and leaned over to kiss Joe on the cheek. “I know a little about finances and security, and I also know a little about quitting to do something else, and I have friends who have done the same, so I’m just going to say this: No one feels prepared on the day they decide to leave. But everyone I know who has would say their only regret is that they didn’t do it sooner.”

Joe’s cheek was warm where Nicky had kissed him, and he couldn’t help but smile even as he wrangled with all the reasons why he would not be fine in his mind that he wanted to throw at Nicky.

“I don’t think I can stay at Merrick Industries any longer.”

Nicky squeezed his thigh, and just like that, he felt sane again.

* * *

“Okay, Nile said she’ll do what she can,” Andy said, and Quynh let her head sink back against the wall. It wasn’t all that uncomfortable on the balcony, if you disregarded the fact that they were hiding, and couldn’t really move while the sun was on its merry way to shine right into their faces. (At the end of the day, Quynh would probably be lying in the sun somewhere else if she wasn’t trapped on this balcony with Andy anyway.) It was more that now she knew what needed to be done, and how much of it, she couldn’t wait to get started.

She turned to look at Andy, who was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Quynh thought she knew why. They said they would talk when the weekend was over, but the fact remained that that could be the case any minute if they were discovered. And they needed to have some sort of understanding where they went from here.

Quynh sighed. All she wanted to do was drop her head on Andy’s shoulder, close her eyes and stay there for a while until she could feel the sunlight on her cheeks. But that might have been a foolish dream.

She pulled her legs into her chest and looped her arms around them.

“I haven’t asked yet,” she said, looking at her knees, “but you know, if you or Joe would have an issue with me going against Merrick, then-“

Andy chuckled and shook her head. “Oh, this is way past that. I’d say it’s a moral obligation for you to go against him at this point, and I’m sure Joe will support you. As will I.”

Quynh glanced at Andy and they shared a brief, reassuring smile before she turned to her knees again. It was good to hear, but it wasn’t all that she needed to say.

“And when I do go against him, it will probably jeopardise your position here. Maybe you won’t have to quit immediately, but-”

“Oh no, I will.”

Quynh exhaled. She couldn’t look at Andy for the next bit. “So what you said to Lykon earlier, about having another offer, I just want you to know that you do. I know we haven’t talked details, but I _would_ like you to work with me, if that’s what you wanted.”

Andy’s leg nudged into hers until Quynh looked back up at her face. “Am I sensing a ‘but’?”

Andy smiled and for some reason that _hurt_ and Quynh didn’t quite know what to do with that information. It was frustrating in the way decisions with two possible outcomes that held an equal amount of value were, only it wasn’t Quynh’s decision to make.

“I would like you to work with me, but I also… like you. I like you a lot. And if this weekend has been anything to go by, I think we can conclude that mixing business with pleasure is… well, messy to say the least, and probably not a good idea for us either.” She swallowed and looked Andy in the eyes even as she wasn’t sure what she was going to see there. “But I’m a woman of my word and I don’t want take away this offer just for the chance that you might want to date me. And if we are going to be working together, then I’m going to do everything to make sure that we _can_ , without any hiccoughs, and we can just let this weekend stay this weekend.”

As she was speaking, Andy had begun to bite her lip and was now giving her what Quynh would normally describe as a funny look. A little like Quynh had lost her mind, which she supposed, in a way, she had.

“What?” she asked.

“Quynh,” Andy said, and tugged on her arm until Quynh released her knees, then took both of her hands into hers. Andy let her thumb run over Quynh’s knuckles, and even as the sun was now definitely on them, she shivered. “I don’t really have any other words to say this, but I think I may have been looking for you all my life. So I don’t know what I could have possibly done this weekend that makes you think I’d pass up the chance to date you for a job.”

“Oh.” There were other things Quynh wanted to say, needed to say, probably, but they were so far from her mind now that Andy’s face was so close. “So you’re not joining my firm?” she asked into the diminishing space between them.

“Maybe as a contractor.” Andy winked at her, then licked her lips. “But is that really what you want to focus on right now?”

When their lips met, it was like coming up for air. Quynh wasn’t sure she’d ever felt so relieved to be kissing someone. She’d thought all meaningful kisses were tinged with a hint of bittersweetness, that that was just what life was like if you chose to fill it with other people.

But when she breathed into Andy’s mouth, Andy’s tongue licking into hers, she felt everything that wasn’t Andy draining away from her, until she could feel laughter bubbling up her throat and she was giddy with it.

Andy pulled her into her lap, laughing as well, which made it hard to kiss, until suddenly it wasn’t. Their lips slid over one another, and Quynh pressed herself close, chasing the feeling that was threatening to overtake her every time Andy ran her hands over her hips. She wasn’t sure she would have stopped if it hadn’t been for someone clearing their throat next to them.

* * *

“Which terminal are you flying from?” Joe asked once Heathrow started showing up on the exit signs on the M4.

“Should be five, it’s just to another European country, but let me check.” Nicky took his hand off Joe’s thigh to thumb through his phone an Joe felt the absence keenly. He’d known this moment was coming, of course, the entire point had been that he’d drive Nicky to the airport so he could, well, leave. That was what you did when you drove to airports. You were either looking forward to being reunited or anticipated being parted.

Joe knew he could just ask when Nicky was coming back, perhaps offer to pick him up from the airport then. It would be a week, maybe two, and it was not like they wouldn’t be able to stay in touch while he was away, either. Only Joe had known him two days, and he wasn’t sure what the protocol for this kind of thing was. If there was one, they’d probably stopped following it by now anyway.

“Fuck,” Nicky said next to him. When Joe looked over, he had his eyes screwed shut like he was in pain or very angry.

“Is everything okay?” Joe asked.

Nicky groaned. “I think you may need to pull over at the next exit,” he pressed through his teeth, and Joe didn’t know what to think.

“But we’re not quite at Heathrow yet. Is everything okay? Are you in pain? Can I do anything?”

“Just pull over, please,” Nicky said weakly, then proceeded to look out the window until Joe had taken the next exit and pulled over at the side of the road. Then he opened his phone, which he’d been clutching in his lap, and showed the screen with his email inbox and boarding pass to Joe.

Nicky sighed. “I was so sure it was Heathrow.”

Only the boarding pass did quite clearly state that Nicky’s flight was about to leave from London Stansted Airport in two hours. Stansted, the airport that was basically in Cambridge. Joe met Nicky’s eyes, and something clenched around his heart.

He jammed his key into the ignition again, and turned it. “Right, we’ve got two hours, maybe if your flight is a little delayed we can still-“

“Joe, no.” Nicky’s hand closed around his wrist and held it in place.

“Come on,” Joe said, “I said I’d drive you-“

“Joe.”

Nicky’s eyes were sad, but his gaze was firm, and Joe didn’t know what they were arguing about, only that he didn’t want to. He just wanted to make sure Nicky got home, anything that stopped him looking so miserable. “But your niece,” he said.

Nicky reached over to turn off the ignition and then kissed Joe, very softly. He let go of his wrist and slid his hand into Joe’s hair, lightly tugging on his curls, and Joe melted under his mouth.

“My niece is hopefully not going anywhere,” Nicky said when he pulled away. Joe had curled his fingers around Nicky’s wrist, his heartbeat a strong and steady current that Joe didn’t want to let go off as Nicky made to open the passenger seat door.

“I’m sorry,” Nicky said, and tangled their fingers together for a moment. “I just need to call Mia to let her know I’m not going to be there tonight.”

He got out of the car and leaned against the side of the door, his ass pressed against the window. Joe kept looking for a moment longer, because his brain was _terrible_ , even in moments like this.

Then he got out his phone and started looking for flights.

* * *

When Andy had called her, Nile had just started looking forward to the weekend being over. There were two more events on the schedule for Sunday – some public viewing of a football game in the afternoon, and then some fireworks when it was dark – but she’d physically done all the scheduling she could for that, and the exhaustion of spending a weekend running around after an overgrown manchild, making sure the next tantrum was kept a bay, was beginning to set in.

So, she wasn’t exactly thrilled to check in on him during the time she was supposed to have to herself, but Andy had mentioned that she was stuck on Merrick’s balcony, and in the end, curiosity won out.

Nile knocked on the door to Merrick’s office.

“Who is it?” came Merrick’s call from inside, sounding a little tense.

“Uh, it’s me, Nile,” she said, “we’re about to start the screening outdoors and-“

The door was yanked open in front of her and Nile came face to face with Keane. (An immediate low point of all of the face to face experiences she had that weekend.)

“What’s this about?”

Nile swallowed. She didn’t particularly enjoy lying, and having to do it to a scary senior exec didn’t exactly make it any easier.

“Uh, well, the screen is all put up in the garden downstairs and we were about to put a game on for people to watch.” She glanced away from Keane. “And I overheard some people wondering if Mr Mer- Steven was going to say a couple of words, as it’s the last evening and all.”

Keane squinted at her. _Oh_ , _this was not good_.

“Can it wait? We’re expecting an important phone call and-“

“Oh, Keane, stop biting the girl’s head off,” Merrick appeared behind him and clapped him on the shoulder, made comical by the fact that he had to reach up to do so. “If the people want to hear from me then who am I to deny them?”

Nile mentally apologised to everyone who had already gathered in the garden and would now have to sit through another impromptu speech from Merrick, but she was mainly relieved that her little ploy had worked. Merrick’s employees would hardly rush to tell him that in fact no one had wanted to hear from him.

“What about the investors?” Keane didn’t look convinced. “We’ve been waiting for thirty minutes and-“

“Precisely,” Merrick cut him off. “We’ve been waiting for thirty minutes, on a Sunday might I add, and that’s no way to treat your business partners, investors or not. If they call now, I say we make _them_ wait. Nile, would you mind manning the phone up here? Pick up when it rings and tell them I’m indisposed. You have my permission to be as rude as you need to be.”

Nile goggled at him for a minute, but nodded. If only she had that permission all the time. Although she’d probably only use it to ‘accidentally’ spill one of the endless cups of coffee Keane made her get him down his shirt. Her mother had brought her up well, after all.

Keane scowled, but took off after Merrick and left Nile alone in the office. She had never been to this office before, but much like the headquarters in the City of London, it was the kind of place you wanted to spend as little time possible in. She sat down on Merrick’s chair, side-eyeing his desk phone and took her own out of her pocket.

 _Coast is clear,_ she texted Andy, _I’m in his office, bought you some time to leave._

Nile sighed, deliberately not thinking of all the reading time she was losing this weekend. Merrick’s phone kept on not ringing, so she wistfully stared at her own, going through some e-mails.

And that’s what she would have continued doing. She had no intention of going exploring – she didn’t really think there was much to explore when it came to Merrick’s living quarter _or_ his personality – but minutes passed, and Andy hadn’t even read her message. And Nile wasn’t worried, per se, but Andy had sounded like she was dying to get away from said balcony, and so it seemed a little odd that she wouldn’t jump at the first chance she got.

When it became obvious that Merrick’s phone wasn’t going to ring any time soon, Nile left his chair and opened the door leading to his living quarters. They were exactly as unassuming and void of personality as Nile had expected, but there was also no Andy in them. Why was she still on the balcony?

Nile tiptoed over to the glassdoor that led to the balcony to have a look around. And what she saw nearly made her drop her phone.

 _Oh my God_ , was her first thought. And then, although she was not proud of it, her second was, _I have to tell Book about this._

Andy was on the balcony alright, but she seemed in no rush to leave any time soon, what with a lapful of Quynh in her hands.

Nile snapped a quick picture – you never knew when you needed blackmail material or proof – and sent it to Booker with the caption _FiNaLly!!_ before making her presence known to the two women.

Andy and Quynh broke apart, startled, when she cleared her throat. (Although they didn’t make it far, with Quynh still in Andy’s lap.)

“Nile,” Andy said, “you- you could have texted.”

“I did,” she said, and waggled her phone in her hand, “just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Thank you, yeah, I think that’s… I’m okay.”

Nile tried really, really hard not to laugh as Quynh and Andy shared a look and Quynh climbed out of Andy’s lap. They looked so _sheepish_.

Quynh cleared her throat. “Nile, I don’t want you to think that what you’ve just seen means- It genuinely isn’t what it looks like. Well, that means it is exactly what it looks like, of course, but I don’t want you to be concerned about, uh, our relationships. We-“

“It’s okay, Quynh,” Andy said, “she knows.”

“What?” Quynh looked from one to the other. “I thought… who else knows?”

Nile laughed and gestured to the throng of people who’d gathered a couple of hundred metres away in the garden below to listen to Merrick. “If we keep standing here, probably half your colleagues. Let’s move,” she said and held open the door for them.

* * *

“I’ll be there as soon as I can, I promise.”

Mia, as expected, had spent a fair amount of time laughing at Nicky, before she’d said, “There is a story there, isn’t it?” And Nicky had nodded before he’d remembered that she couldn’t see him, and then cursed his little sister for knowing him so well. It should be a privilege reserved for the older sibling.

“Can’t wait to hear it. Text me when the next flight gets here, Paolo can pick you up from the airport.”

“I will, thank you, Mia.”

Nicky slid his phone back into his pocket then ran his hands through his hair. He had he overwhelming urge to turn around and knock his forehead against the roof of the car a couple of times, but he had a feeling that might worry Joe even if he did it very gently. This had to be a new low. There were a million and one reasons why one might miss a flight, and Nicky could have probably forgiven himself almost all of them, but getting the airport wrong? He’d question what was wrong with him, but he didn’t want to face the answer, just yet.

He turned as Joe stepped out of the car on the driver’s side, then rounded the hood to come stand next to Nicky.

“Eight am,” he said and held his phone out to Nicky. There was a small smile on his face, but now that Nicky knew what he could look like when he was laughing fully, it was almost hard to bear. He looked so worried, and Nicky didn’t want him to worry about him, he was fine. Well, mostly fine. Inexplicably better now that Joe was out here with him.

“Hm?”

“Next flight to Christopher Columbus Airport, Genoa, leaves from Heathrow at 8am tomorrow,” Joe said, and gently placed his phone in Nicky’s hands. “Go ahead, if you want to book.”

Nicky wasn’t a huge talker, but that didn’t mean he was often lost for words. And there were many things he wanted to say, but he could only look between the flight page on Joe’s phone and his face, hapless, until what he came out with was: “Do. Do you want to come with?”

“What?”

Joe looked startled, but in a way, he’d looked startled before Nicky had kissed him the first time as well, and that had turned out fine, too, so there was no point backing out now. In for a penny, as they said. “Do you want to come with me, tomorrow?”

“I- I don’t have any annual leave. And I can’t just leave Quynh at Hampton Manor, I-“ Joe looked torn in the best way, but he hadn’t said no yet. Nicky waited as Joe waged war with his own thoughts, rueful smile on his face, his finger hovering over the box that said _Passengers_ on Joe’s phone. He knew he’d made a decision when Joe huffed out an aborted laugh. “A lot of that doesn’t matter anymore, does it?”

Nicky smiled at him, and Joe stepped close until he was right in Nicky’s space. He had to let the phone sink, because suddenly they were touching everywhere, and then he had to hold on to Joe as he sank into his kiss.

It was slow and languid, sweet like syrup, and Nicky knew that if Joe had kissed him like this any sooner, he would have missed his flight no matter where it was taking off from.

“Shall I take that as a yes?” Nicky whispered against Joe’s lips when they broke away for air some moments later, but it didn’t matter. Joe’s answer was nothing but a heavy-lidded smile, and Nicky wasn’t able to breathe.

Joe reached around him and opened the door to the backseat. “Right, get in there,” he said, voice like gravel, and Nicky’s legs got weak. At least he wouldn’t have to walk far.

“What for?”

Joe placed his mouth on the spot just under Nicky’s jaw that had nearly made him lose his mind the night before, and said: “Oh, no. You don’t get to tease me all morning with what you’d like to do to me and then invite me to meet your family in the next breath and still ask ‘what for’ now.” He punctuated this statement by sharply sucking Nicky’s skin into his mouth, and Nicky found he couldn’t argue. Car sex wasn’t the height of romance – and definitely not the location he’d had in mind when he’d told Joe he wanted to make him see stars earlier – but he’d worked with less.

He ducked into the car and scooted down the backseat until there was enough space for Joe to crawl in after him. Almost as soon as Joe had closed the door he was on him again, sliding his hands down Nicky’s jaw as he pushed his tongue into Nicky’s mouth. It was the early evening and it was still light out, but no other car had driven past them the entire time they’d been here, and Nicky knew that wasn’t how probability worked, but not even a small part of his brain was willing to focus on statistics right now. He was too preoccupied letting his fingers travel down Joe’s firm chest, tracing his nipples with his thumbs through the fabric.

“How are you real?” He mumbled against Joe’s lips, before moving to unbutton his shirt.

“I could ask you the same,” Joe said, drawing Nicky closer and climbing into his lap. He had an inch or two on Nicky, so Nicky used the opportunity to nose at Joe’s throat before moving onto his collarbones. Joe’s fingers slid through his hair and he rocked against Nicky, once. “But I’ve been reliably informed that this isn’t a dream.”

Nicky grinned up at him and kissed Joe again until he finally had his shirt open all the way. “Who’s being a tease now?”

“Me? Never.” Joe laughed at the face Nicky was making, but didn’t stop grinding against him, and if Nicky hadn’t already been painfully hard, straining against his pants, this would have done it.

“Oh, sorry,” Nicky gasped, “my bad, I don’t know how I could have possibly arrived at that conclusion. It’s not like you’d ever pass out next to someone only to wake them by grinding against their ass the next morning and go promptly back to sleep.”

“Yeah, that doesn’t sound like me at all,” Joe said. He had to keep his head close to Nicky’s face so he didn’t bump into the roof of the car, his hot breath ghosting over Nicky’s cheeks. Nicky felt like he was being burnt alive but in the best possible way.

Joe moved to suck at the spot on Nicky’s jaw again and made quick work of the buttons on Nicky’s shirt, punctuating each with a downward grind of his hips. Nicky could feel his own eyes roll back in his head, and he let out a helpless moan, digging his fingers into Joe’s back under his shirt. The angle wasn’t even right, how could it possibly feel that good through so many layers of clothing?

It took a considerable amount of effort to bat Joe’s hands away when he moved on to Nicky’s belt buckle.

“No?” Joe pulled away, just an inch, but it was enough to give Nicky the balance he needed to push Joe sideways onto the backseat, sliding to half-kneel on the floor himself.

“Not until I get my mouth on you,” he said, splaying his hands over Joe’s hipbones, and Joe’s answering groan instantly made up for the horrible position his knees were in. He realised it was the first time he’d seen Joe shirtless, all pecs and soft abs, and he needed to have some serious words with his past-self on allowing Joe to sleep with his shirt on. Well, no. That was an issue for his future-self now.

Smiling at the thought, Nicky made quick work of Joe’s trousers, placing small kisses at the strip of skin over his waistband. He resisted the urge to nuzzle into the space between Joe’s legs and his groin just to drink in his scent, and instead turned his attention to where a wet spot had begun to form on Joe’s boxers.

“Already?” Nicky said, smiling, and trailed his nose along Joe’s dick.

“Nicky,” Joe sounded breathless, and if that wasn’t absolutely _doing it_ for Nicky hearing his own name, “it’s been nearly twenty-four hours at this point, I think that choice of word is entirely inappropriate.”

“Mhmm.” Nicky replaced his nose with his tongue, licking up Joe’s shaft and tonguing at the wet spot on his boxers, just to get a taste. “And yet, you still sound very coherent.”

The answering growl of frustration told him that was likely not going to be the case for much longer, and he slipped his hands under Joe’s waistband to free his cock.

Joe gasped as it came to lie on his stomach, flushed and weeping, and Nicky met his eyes from where he was kneeling between his legs. Not breaking eye contact, he licked one long stripe up his shaft, before finding Joe’s hand where it was holding onto the backseat with his and placing it gently on his head.

Joe groaned as Nicky tongued his slit, his head falling back against the seat and fingers tugging Nicky’s hair. Nicky had to move away for a moment – coming in his pants was an _option_ , but it would be a nightmare to clean up – before closing his fingers around Joe’s cock and beginning to go down on him in earnest.

He had a feeling Joe wasn’t going to last very long, and neither was he, but that wasn’t going to keep him from pulling out all the stops. He took Joe deep, starting each move with a swirl of his tongue at the tip of his cock, before sinking down until he could swallow around him.

“Oh yes, just like that, that’s so-” Joe was writhing underneath him, gasping with every encouragement, and Nicky tried to hold his hip in place with his other hand. Which was unfortunate, because with every noise Joe made, every tug to his hair, he grew increasingly more desperate to press a hand against himself.

“ _Nicky_ ,” Joe gasped, and he was close, Nicky could _feel_ it, but before he could press his tongue flat against Joe for his come, Joe tugged him away. “Kiss me.”

Joe helped Nicky up until he was laying half on top of him, then surged up to kiss Nicky. He was no doubt tasting himself on Nicky’s tongue, and this time, Nicky didn’t stop him when he reached to open his belt and trousers.

Nicky groaned into Joe’s mouth when Joe slid a hand around them both and began working Nicky’s cock next to his own with a quick, sure strokes. His arm buckled where he was trying to hold himself up next to Joe’s face.

“I’m-,” he gasped, resting his forehead against Joe’s, “I’m close.”

“Yes, _habibi_ ,” Joe whispered, “come for me.”

Nicky opened his eyes to see his palm sweep across both their cocks, smearing the precum together to ease the slide, and came with an aborted shout as Joe licked into his mouth again. They were both shaking, and Nicky could feel Joe pulsing against him, too, their mingling between their stomachs where they were pressed against each other.

He’d given up on holding himself up with his hand, and instead slumped forward, resting his forehead on Joe’s shoulder.

They lay like that, entangled and sticky, and Nicky listened to Joe’s harsh breathing slow in step with his own, until Joe turned to press a kiss against his temple, his hand tracing patterns on Nicky’s back. “All okay?”

“Mhmm,” Nicky nuzzled into his neck. “Very.”

It was a good thing he hadn’t had a chance to book their flight for the next morning yet. It was unlikely he’d want to get up from Joe’s embrace by then.

* * *

After promising to tell her the story another time, they left Nile behind in Merrick’s office – ostensibly in order for her to be rude to someone on Merrick’s behalf, but Andy supposed it was just another item on an increasingly long list of questionable business practices – and hurried down the stairs to the guest rooms.

“We should probably get a move on,” Andy said, and gave Quynh Lykon’s USB stick, on which she’d transferred all the files relating to _Vetupraesidium_ I could find.

“Yeah.” Quynh let the stick vanish in her gigantic trousers. “I’ve got my laptop with me, I should be able to get a head start on this case before dinner.”

“No, Quynh, I mean,” Andy gestured to where Merrick was currently describing what look like a rainbow, based on his gestures, “we need to shift ourselves. Nile’s covered for us up there, but I don’t want to wait around for Merrick to find out we were in his office and are planning to sue him. I’m not in the mood to have a fistfight with Keane.”

Quynh raised a curious eyebrow at her. “Has that… happened before?”

“That’s beside the point,” Andy said, but winked at Quynh. “I think we need to pack.”

“Right,” Quynh said, “I’ll get mine and Joe’s stuff.”

Andy checked that no one was around, then leaned in for a quick kiss. “Great. See you at my car as soon as you can.”

* * *

When they had cleaned themselves up as best as they possibly could with some wet wipes Joe had found in the glove compartment, Joe buttoned Nicky’s shirt back up and lay half on top of him. Their feet were wedged together somewhere below the backseat, and Joe knew he was going to cramp soon, but he wanted to enjoy this moment as long as it lasted.

Nicky slid out his phone from his pocket. “So you definitely want to come with?”

Joe lifted his head an inch from where it was pillowed on Nicky’s chest. “Yes.”

“There might be a lot of baby holding involved though.”

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing.”

“There will be a real bed though.”

Joe smiled into the crook of Nicky’s neck. “Now you’re just listing positives.”

Nicky patted his head, kissed his forehead and then manoeuvred both of them into a seated position to book the tickets. Joe couldn’t look at him for very long, his heart immediately jumping into his throat whenever he did, so he checked his own phone. He’d almost forgotten what it was like, feeling so full of every emotion at the beginning of a relationship. How did people live like that, with this constant high on giddiness?

“Oh,” he said once he had a chance to check his text messages, “Quynh says I should get back to Hampton Manor as soon as possible, it’s urgent.”

Nicky grinned at him. “Still at the beck and call of the missus? I think I need to try harder next time.”

“Hey.” Joe nudged him with his elbow. Then Nicky nudged him back, and before long they were making out again. Joe’s back was going to be in _shreds_ , but now was not the time to start caring.

“I hope they made it off that balcony, though,” Nicky said when they broke apart.

Joe picked up Nicky’s phone from where he’d dropped it and pressed it back into his hands. “You book flights, I’ll drive. I need to pick up my things for tomorrow anyway.”

Nicky nodded, and they both climbed back into the front.

“Right, eight am tomorrow,” Nicky said after a few minutes, and Joe looked over to find a grin threatening to overtake his face, wide and wild. He took Nicky’s hand and interlaced their fingers on top of his thigh. He didn’t let go until they saw Hampton Manor again, and even then, he wished he didn’t have to.

* * *

It was a miracle how an event that was supposed to have complete gender parity still felt so full of men. Quynh had helped Andy load her and Joe’s stuff into her car, and then, as they waited for Joe to return, they’d wandered back to the garden where a football game was being streamed.

In an almost pitiful portrayal of stereotypical behaviour, most of the men were crowding around the screen, while their wives seemed to have grouped around the buffet, carrying on with conversations as if there was not shouting and jostling going on anywhere near them at all.

Quynh couldn’t see Merrick anywhere, which was both a relief and a worry. They hadn’t left any obvious signs of entry to his office, but the cupboard definitely didn’t look the way it had before she’d found the group insurance policy, and she would hate if Nile got blamed for anything she’d had nothing to do with. On the other hand, Quynh wasn’t sure if she could face Merrick now and resist the urge to confront him about what a truly dreadful human being and even worse business man he was. That, or slap him the second he opened his mouth to say anything to her. He had a very slappable face.

Quynh could tell that Andy felt the same way, her face devoid of any of the soft crinkles Quynh had watched come to life when Andy was around her.

“When will Joe get here?” Andy asked.

“He said he was on the way a while ago.” Quynh shrugged. “Could be any minute. Shall we grab something to eat while we still can?”

Andy nodded, and they made their way over to the buffet. Quynh had never changed out of her harem pants, which turned out to be much more of a strategic asset when it came to sneaking away food than it had with Merrick’s documents. Andy wrapped the minuscule sandwiches up in napkins for her, and Quynh slipped them into her gigantic pockets. (Unless they were cucumber, in which case she ate them straight away.)

“I’m going to tell Joe,” Quynh said under her breath when they were done and both eating teacakes, “when he gets here.”

“Do you think he’s not going to take it well?”

“I don’t know,” Quynh said. “He was so worried about me poaching you because it might affect his promotion, but that’s clearly not going to be an issue anymore. It’s just that this is so ridiculous, and I worry he’s going to feel like I was deliberately lying to him, even though I didn’t even have a chance to bring it up yet.”

Andy chewed her sandwich thoughtfully, scanning the crowd in front of them.

“Does Nicky know?” Quynh asked.

“About us? No. But I have told him that you and Joe were also-“ She made a vague hand gesture, that likely meant ‘faking your relationship’ but did a better job at conveying how insane their situation still was.

“Oh God,” Quynh said, and set her teacake down. “Do you think he’s told Joe?”

“Told me what?”

Quynh whipped around at the sound of Joe’s voice, who had just come up behind her and Andy. He was smiling from ear to ear as he hugged her, and Quynh breathed a sigh of relief as he hugged her. He’d sounded so anxious on the phone before, but she knew that smile. If he was this happy and content, he’d probably take it well that Quynh had been less than faithful in their fake marriage.

“What are you still doing here?” Andy said next to her, and Quynh spotted Nicky over Joe’s shoulder.

“Wrong airport,” Nicky said, “couldn’t make it in time to Stansted.”

Quynh flinched at the mention. It was, without a doubt, the worst of London’s airports.

“Oh, Nicky,” Andy said, and hugged him.

“So who hasn’t told me what?” Joe asked, still smiling, and reached for Quynh’s teacake, which she conceded without a challenge.

“You know how I asked you for a favour in return of doing you a favour?” She lowered her voice and saw Joe’s eyes sliding from her face over to Andy and Nicky as he bit into the teacake.

“Uh, yes? Do you want to ask for that _now_?”

Quynh nodded, twisting her fingers into the pockets of her trousers. “Yeah. It’s that you don’t get mad about what I tell you next and listen to the end.”

She should have maybe waited with this until they were in the car away from Hampton Manor. Much harder to get angry when you were focussed on the road.

Joe looked genuinely worried now. “Okay?”

“So it turns out we are not the only ones who have come to an, shall I say, arrangement, about being here.” Best to begin with the basics. She’d thought maybe Joe would be surprised, indignant even, but so far, he was only smiling a confused little smile.

“You mean, Andy and Nicky?” he asked.

Great, so Nicky _had_ told him. But Joe didn’t seem too disturbed by the fact that he’d learned about this from someone else than her, so Quynh decided to press on.

“Yeah. Sorry, I should have told you as soon as we figured it out, but you were so worried about Andy and everything else already, and I didn’t want to add to that, particularly when things got a little more complicated.” Andy and her exchanged a quick little encouraging glance, and in a moment of daring, Quynh linked their little fingers together. “So, you see, Andy and I-“

But that was as far as she made before Joe nearly choked on his teacake as his eyes fell on their hands. “You. What?”

“I’m sorry Joe, I should have told you earlier, maybe, but it’s all quite recent and we didn’t really have a chance today.”

Nicky clapped Joe on the back, twice, but there was a tiny little smirk playing around his lips that Quynh couldn’t quite place. He glanced over at Andy, and Quynh felt her finger slide from her hand.

“Oh my God,” Andy said.

“What?” Quynh was thoroughly confused by now.

“Not you _too_ ,” Andy groaned, at which point Nicky broke out a full-blown grin. “Jesus Christ, I can’t take you anywhere!”

“Hey, I didn’t even want to be here,” Nicky said, “and that’s no reason to take the Lord’s name vain.”

“Right.” Andy’s hand closed around another teacake, and it surely would’ve landed somewhere in Nicky’s face, had he not taken off the second he’d seen her reach for it. Andy chased after him, both of them giggling like school children, and really, Quynh only had herself to blame for ever thinking they were a couple.

“What is going on?” She said, mostly to herself, but when she looked at Joe, he was scratching his neck as if he was embarrassed by something.

“Yeah. About that. Your situation may not be as unique as you thought it was. Or maybe I should say our situation. Although I don’t know who that would be referring to, anymore.”

Quynh closed her eyes. “If this is you trying to tell me that while I hooked up with Andy you hooked up with Nicky, I might have to scream.”

But he didn’t even need to say anything. His face said it all when she opened her eyes. “Please don’t?”

“YUSUF AL-KAYSANI!” If she’d had a purse with her, she might have started to gently whack him with that, but as it was, all she had was pockets and pockets full of sandwiches. “After EVERYTHING you said to ME when we got here-“

“No, Quynh, I can explain, please don’t make a scene,” Joe was shielding his face from the onslaught on sandwiches, but they were both laughing, and Quynh was already delighted at the idea of becoming a frivolous memory for the women around them. They wouldn’t know the first thing about her, but they’d remember the crazy lady who’d started pelting her husband with sandwiches at their corporate retreat, and as far as legacies went, it was pretty good deal. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nicky rounding the buffet table and steer towards her and Joe again, Andy hot on his heels.

“I’ll show you making a scene!” Quynh said, but stopped short of actually throwing a drink in Joe’s face.

“Oh, trouble in paradise?” None of them had noticed Merrick showing up, and there he was now, strolling past Joe and Quynh with Keane and Nile on his heels. “Don’t worry Yusuf, I’m sure we can find a spare bed or couch for you somewhere.”

Andy and Nicky had caught up with them, but at the sight of Merrick, Andy had let the teacake she was about to smear in Nicky’s face sink. They exchanged a glance, but Quynh kept looking over at Joe who this had clearly been directed at. He raised his eyebrows at her for a quick moment, then fished a piece of lettuce out of his hair and threw it at Merrick’s feet.

“That’s very _kind_ ,” Joe said, even though his tone conveyed an entirely different sentiment, “but I doubt it will be necessary. Since we weren’t married in the first place.”

Merrick looked at the piece of lettuce in front of his feet. “Excuse me?”

“This?” Joe gestured between him and Quynh, his voice getting louder. Quynh didn’t know whether to be alarmed or delighted, but as it was, it was hard not to laugh at Merrick’s face. “This is a farce. As it this whole weekend, by the way.”

The football game was still on, but things had quietened down considerably in their corner of the garden, so that a ‘WOO!’ in response to Joe’s statement was easy to hear. Quynh was willing to bet it had come from Booker.

Coming to stand behind her, Andy leaned down to whisper in Quynh’s ear: “What is he doing?”

“I don’t know, but I kind of want to join,” she replied.

Andy sighed. “Looks like I _will_ have to fight Keane after all.”

In front of them, Merrick crossed his arms, and Keane’s scowl had turned a light shade of murderous. “I’m not sure I quite know what you mean, Yusuf.”

“He’s saying that you’re using a ‘corporate weekend’ as a disguise to turn your workforce into human lab rats,” Nicky piped up, his stare matching Keane’s in intensity.

“And forcing people to attend a four-day weekend away with their partner over a bank holiday is stupid and archaic. The goodie bags were a nice touch, but I’m not sure they make up for the childcare half these people had to get,” Quynh added. It paled as an argument against Nicky’s but it needed to be said.

Merrick narrowed his eyes at the four of them. Keane looked like he was about to deck Nicky, but then his eyes flickered to Andy and he didn’t. She _must_ have fought him before.

“I think it would be best if you left now,” Merrick said. It was quiet, but Quynh could tell he was seething.

“Gladly,” Joe said, and took Nicky’s hand. There were a number of gasps from the women behind them, which made Quynh almost sad not to have taken Andy’s hand first. She looked up at Andy who was still fixing Merrick with a devilish gleam in her eye.

“But Steven, I hope you know: We’re not going to go quietly. We’re going to leave here, and we’re going to go home, and then we’re going to take you down. _Whatever it takes_ ,” Andy said, and Quynh was glad to see Merrick flinch at the last words.

“I’d like to see you try,” he blustered, and Nicky scoffed at him.

“Lesser man have tried. Greater men have failed,” he said and they all turned to leave. Andy put her arm around Quynh’s shoulder and together they made their way towards their cars.

“You’ll hear from my lawyers!” Merrick shouted after them just before they were out of earshot, and that was the moment Quynh felt laughter rising up and bubbling out of her again.

“Can’t wait!” she quipped back, and then the four of them took off, laughing and running the last couple of metres to the parking lot.

Quynh leaned against Joe’s car to catch her breath, which was hard, because she kept laughing and laughing, buoyed by the feeling of sudden freedom and like she’d just started something that was bigger than herself.

“Alright,” Joe said, leaning against the car next to his. He was still holding Nicky’s hand. “Will someone explain to me what the _fuck_ just happened?”

Quynh smiled up at Andy, and then looked back at Joe. “I think you’ll find that you were the one who started it.”

Joe scrunched up his face like he remembered and regretted, and Quynh felt another wave of laughter ready to overwhelm her.

When they got home there was going to be some serious work to do, a number of conversations to have, big and small, and most importantly, they’d have to catch each other up on exactly _what_ had happened this weekend.

“In fairness to _me_ ,” Quynh said, and reached over to poke his shoulder, “I told you from the beginning that this was a dumb decision. So maybe we should just agree not to let you make any more impulsive decisions from now on, and we’ll all be fine.”

Joe and Nicky looked at each other, and then back at her.

Nicky cleared his throat. “About that-“

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So anyway, quit your soulless corporate jobs and fulfil your freelancing dreams by taking down your boss! (She says into the worst economic climate possible.) Also not the core message I thought this fic was going to have when I first started writing, but I'm glad it's not (only) "kiss your colleague's spouse and worry about the consequences later."
> 
> I'm not happy to leave it at this quite yet, so there will be an epilogue in a week's time or so. (Yes, there will be more Booker and Sophie and Mia and Elena, because the heart wants what it wants.)
> 
> Thank you to everyone who's been following this story until here and has commented or sent kudos and love my way. I could've never imagined the form this fic would take or the response to it I've had, and it makes me very happy to see that it's resonated with your or has made you laugh along the way. <3


	14. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we tie up some loose ends (and the knot).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I said it's an epilogue, but it's more a collection of loosely connected, semi-chronological scenes set around two years after the plot. Don't worry, it will make sense.

Of course, Booker was late. In the two years since Joe had somewhat explosively left Merrick Industries, a lot of things had changed. But some things? Some things never would.

Joe was waiting for Booker at the King’s Head, their old haunt, where he was supposed to meet him for lunch. It wasn’t even that convenient for either of them anymore, neither of them working in the City these days, but they were both sentimental enough to do these things for old times’ sake.

“Hey,” Booker said, when he finally showed up, a little windswept, but looking a lot less harried than he used to, “Sorry I’m late.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way,” Joe said, and pushed the pint of lager he’d ordered for Booker across the table, “I’m a patient man.”

Booker raised the glass in a toast, but squinted at Joe’s words. “Sure, Joe. Or is Nicky beginning to rub off on you?”

“Well, that’s certainly one way of putting it.”

Booker groaned. “Oh, forget I said anything. Things going well for the two of you then?”

Joe nodded, fiddling with the jewellery on his hands. He smiled at a memory from that morning, when Nicky had put that patience of his to a very single-minded use that had very nearly made Joe late for a meeting.

“Yeah,” he said, “very. How are Sophie and the kids?”

“Well, she gets to lie in the sun in the south of France for at least an hour a day at the moment, so she’s certainly not complaining.”

A few months after Quynh had started the case against Merrick, Booker had quit as his Head of Operations and had taken a role with a company that was looking to establish its presence in France. He was now spending his time between the two countries, but Sophie had jumped at the opportunity to move back to France with the kids full-time.

“And you're stuck in grey old London with us,” Joe said, taking a sip of his drink.

“Eh, what can I say,” Booker said, “Misery loves company. _Somebody_ needs to keep you all in line.”

Joe laughed at that and nudged Booker’s shoulder with his as they went up to the bar to order some food.

“But anyway, what’s up with you? Anything big happen since we last saw each other, or just the usual?”

“The usual being corporate espionage with a side of romance?” Joe asked, eyes twinkling, but his heart had begun to beat faster in his chest. He did have news, of course, had asked Booker here for this very specific reason. But now he got to say it out loud for the first time, and what could he do. It was _exciting_.

“Something like that.”

Joe reached into his pocket and got out an open envelope which he slid over the table to Booker.

“What’s this?” Booker asked and picked it up. “Am I being paid off to keep my silence for the next nefarious plot?”

“Just open it, Book.” Joe was grinning from ear to ear by now.

Booker took out the card from the envelope – held in dark green, white and gold, with some floral touches that Quynh had _insisted_ on – and turned it around in his hands. “Hm, looks great, this. Did you get someone to design it for you?”

“Oh, come on, now.” Joe affectionately kicked Booker’s shin under the table. “Be nice.”

Booker chuckled to himself, then flipped the card over. Joe knew what it said of course, but he still leaned forward to peek over the top of the card to read it with Booker, just upside down.

_Please save the date for the marriage of_

Andromache Black _to_ Quynh Nguyen

_and_

Yusuf al-Kaysani _to_ Nicolò di Genova

_on the fifteenth of July in Somerset._

_Formal invitations to follow._

Booker stared at the card for a good thirty seconds without saying anything – or too long, anyway, Joe knew his reading comprehension wasn’t _that_ poor – before he looked up at Joe, mouth slightly agape.

“You look shocked!” Joe laughed. “Surely it’s not that much of a surprise?”

“No, it’s- Hey man, come here, congratulations!” Booker got up to hug him, and Joe laughed and laughed into it, the giddiness and his beating heart threatening to overtake him. He was getting _married_.

“I just- I can’t believe I didn’t know what Andy’s full name was before this.”

“Oh yeah, she’s going to be livid when they go out, but Quynh insisted.”

Booker clapped him on the back, now laughing fully. “Double wedding, eh? You guys don’t do ‘uncomplicated’, do you?”

Joe sighed and sat back down as their food was brought over. “It’s not that we don’t want to, it was more that it’s going to be hard enough as it is to get Nicky’s whole family over for this, and doing it twice a year because they’re going to want to come to Andy’s wedding as well just seemed unreasonable, so-“

“So instead it’s going to be a ceremony that somehow, what, combines four cultures?”

Joe cringed around his lentil pie. Booker was right, it wasn’t going to be _easy_ , but when they’d made the decision, they’d all already known that it was going to be a day that would make them happy – and not every little auntie who’d only understand mid-way through the ceremony who was marrying who. “Let’s just say we’re all glad at least Nicky and Quynh are both Catholic.”

“Well, Sophie and I will be sure not to miss the spectacle.”

“Yeah, about that,” Joe said, his heart beating a little faster again. It was ridiculous, like he was asking somebody to a school dance again. Even more ridiculous, because all the important questions had already been asked, anyway. “I was hoping you might want to be part of the spectacle. As my best man, say?”

Booker nearly mis-swallowed his forkful of mash, and Joe was very glad he didn’t spit it out straight back at him. “You want me to be your best man?”

“Yeah,” Joe said, and they grinned at each other. “You up for it?”

"Oh, am I up for it!" Booker said, and they had to toast again, and again, until they had the longest pub lunch they'd ever had, but it was okay, because Joe was getting married, and Booker was going to be his best man.

What could possibly go wrong?

* * *

In the end, the case didn’t even go to court. Quynh should have possibly seen that coming, but a part of her had been itching to put her solicitor’s wig back on. She’d pushed and pushed for Merrick and Kozak to be put on trial, so when their solicitor approached for potential terms of a settlement outside of the court, she’d named a figure so ludicrous it would mean either insolvency for Merrick or his company. There was, she’d thought, simply no way he was going to take her up on it.

So when she received an e-mail from Merrick’s solicitor that read: _My client accepts your terms. We’ll draw up the agreement,_ she nearly fell off her chair.

It was not possible. She was close to calling the judge who’d been assigned the case, asking him how she could take it back, if that was possible. She had a feeling it was, but then she’d look indecisive and she knew the patience most judges had these days.

When Andy came knocking on her door a few minutes later, Quynh was still frantically scrolling through the e-mail exchange she’d had with Merrick’s solicitor, trying to make sense of just how much their world had just changed.

“Are you okay?” Andy asked, leaning against her door frame. They’d moved in with each other a little over a year ago, into a new flat that was all theirs, with separate – but adjoining – offices. “You made a startled sound.”

Quynh looked at her like she was seeing a ghost. There were no sentences forming in her brain when she tried, so she just turned her monitor for Andy to read.

The colour was slowly draining from her face as she did. “But that’s…”

“It’d be split between the four of us, of course,” Quynh hastened to say, “and I need to make sure that settlement actually includes a clause on Kozak never even being allowed near a medical practice again, but-“

Andy pulled up a chair and sat down. Then she took Quynh’s hand. “How did you _do_ that?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Quynh protested. “Do you think I wanted to have to tell Joe that just as he’s established himself as a freelancer, it turns out he’ll never have to work again?”

Andy laughed at that, looking much perkier than she had before, and leaned in to kiss Quynh.

“We can give _so much_ to charity,” she said, punctuating each word with a kiss to Quynh’s face. “Brilliant, brilliant you.”

* * *

Joe had moved in with Nicky a few weeks after they’d come back to London from Italy. In the grand scheme of their relationship to that point, it was not the most impulsive thing that had happened, and anyway, there were many practical reasons for it: The shared living costs meant a bigger financial buffer for Joe as he set up his own graphic design business, and the shared living space meant more time for them together as Nicky started general training.

Although at the moment, Nicky was not seeing as much of Joe as he would like anyway: As expected, Joe had been inundated with projects the second he’d signalled most of his contacts he’d be happy to take them, and he currently spent most days working until deep into the night.

And Nicky couldn’t sleep. He didn’t want to complain, because he’d slept on make-shift cots on some truly horrific shifts as a paramedic before and his own bed was a thousand times nicer than that, only. He’d begun to get used to a warm and steady weight at his back to snuggle into. He still got to wake up in Joe’s arms most days, of course, but it wasn’t the same thing.

So he took the pillow he’d been holding to his chest and padded down the hallway into their living room where Joe sat at this laptop still, and knee pulled up to his chin.

“Hey,” Nicky said, and propped the pillow behind Joe’s back. He leaned down to nose at Joe’s ear, just inhale the scent of his hair, and rested his hands on Joe’s shoulders, gently massaging them. “Are you going to come to bed?”

Joe leaned into his touch immediately, sighing as Nicky worked a little knot in his back. “I want to. But now I’ve got clients it turns out I actually have to deal with fun topics like VAT and invoicing on top of everything else. And I _hate_ spreadsheets.”

Nicky peered at the spreadsheet over Joe’s shoulder. “And do you think that maybe that’ll be easier if you do it in the morning rather than in the middle of the night?”

“Probably,” Joe said, and turned his head to press a kiss to Nicky’s cheek. He sighed. “Yes, you’re probably right. How are you always right, _hayati_?”

“It’s one of my many great talents.” Nicky smiled and pulled Joe up. “Now come to bed.”

Later, when he was settled against Joe, their fingers interlaced over his heart, and just before drifting off, Nicky mused: “You know, you could just hire Nile.”

Joe nuzzled into his neck. “Nile?”

Nicky hummed. “I’ve been speaking to Quynh about it-“

“You could have just said I don’t actually have a choice in the matter.”

“And she reckons Nile will want out from Merrick when her contract is up, but she’s still got a couple of years on her PhD, so a part-time role with you would probably be ideal for her.”

Joe kissed his neck and sighed happily. “Alright. I’ll look into it.”

A couple of days later, Nicky came home from the hospital to find Joe laughing at his computer in their living room.

“Come look at what Nile send me as an application to be my admin assistant,” Joe said, still chuckling, after he’d kissed Nicky hello.

He opened a PowerPoint on his computer. The first slide, had a white background, a little stick figure drawing with a dog’s head, and the words: _graphic design is my passion. for: the best ex-colleague (don’t tell booker) by: nile_ ”

Nicky frowned at the screen. “Did you ask her to do this?”

Joe laughed. “No! But she’s definitely hired now.”

Nicky didn’t know too much about graphic design, what went into it or what people were generally looking for when they hired Joe, but it generally seemed a little less basic.

“What’s up? You look like you disagree,” Joe said.

“No, no, I think you should hire her, only… this is not very good, is it?” Nicky pointed at the stick figure.

Joe looked from the PowerPoint to Nicky’s face and back a couple of times, an incredulous look on his face, before taking both of Nicky’s hands into his.

“Nicky, _habibi_ , light of my life,” he said, and Nicky knew what was coming, but it still made him feel warm, “how are you the smartest man I know and yet sometimes so stupid?”

Joe leaned up to kiss him, but Nicky dodged him a few times. _Unbelievable_. He tried to be cross, but it was hard not to smile. “Oh no, not after you were so rude to me!”

Joe laughed, and pulled on Nicky’s hands until Nicky had no chance but to tumble into him for a kiss.

“I was not being rude,” Joe whispered against his skin, “I’m merely bracing myself for having to explain for the thirteenth time what a meme is.”

* * *

Quynh saw Dovecote Manor for the first time when she climbed out of Andy’s car in the parking lot. It was smaller than Merrick’s manor house had been, and much further out of London, but it was older and therefore more charming the way listed buildings in the English countryside often were.

“Well, let’s see what it’s all about, shall we?” Joe said, as he rounded the back of the car. The four of them were scouting locations for their wedding, and he’d been the one who’d e-mailed them all a link to this one a few weeks ago. “Nile said it had all the trimmings you could ask for and sufficient capacity.”

It was strange to think that the price of the wedding would not be a point of contention, for once. They’d all agreed to give a large chunk of the settlement with Merrick to charity, but had also decided to use the money to blow on their wedding. In a very, very roundabout way, the wedding wouldn’t be happening without Merrick after all, so Quynh thought it oddly fitting that he should pay for it.

Andy came to stand next to Quynh at the bottom of the stairs leading up to the entrance. “Wait a second. You’re making Nile organise your wedding?” she asked Joe.

“Oh no, I can’t seem to _stop_ Nile from trying to organise our wedding.”

The door to the Manor opened and a tallish, middle-aged man with slicked-back grey hair and a round pair of glasses perched on his nose stepped out.

“Ahh, welcome, welcome to Dovecote Manor,” he said, and climbed down the stairs to greet them. Quynh guessed that he was probably Mr Campbell-Edwards, the keeper of the manor, who they’d organised a trial weekend with. “And may I extend my very warmest congratulations to the happy couple,” he said, and shook first Quynh’s then Nicky’s hand.

A laugh was halfway past Quynh’s lips when she realised he was being serious. She caught Nicky’s confused gaze, then they both looked at Joe.

“Oh no, we’re actually all getting married,” Joe said to Mr Campbell-Edwards, “I think I mentioned it in my e-mail?”

“Oh, but of course! I remember now, my congratulations to you and your betrothed as well,” Mr Campbell-Edwards said as he shook his and Andy’s hand, awkwardly moving from one end of their little group to the other. “Or have I got the couples mixed up there now?”

 _You could say that_ , Quynh thought, but like the others, she didn’t say anything until Mr Campbell-Edwards bade them inside for some complimentary champagne and scones and left to lead the way.

“Well, _that one_ was new,” she muttered under her breath and Nicky snickered at Joe’s devastated face.

Andy rolled her eyes at all of them and took Quynh’s hand. “No offense Joe. But you couldn’t _pay me_ to pretend again.”

Nile, as so often, had been right. Dovecote Manor had everything on their respective lists, and then some: A beautiful reception hall, plenty of bedrooms for all of their extended families, a well-kept rose garden for photo opportunities and lots of nooks and crannies in its corridors, if one was partial to sneaking around. (What could Quynh say, she’d gotten attached to the practice.)

“There has to be something wrong with the place,” Andy whispered as Mr Campbell-Edwards led them back out of the wine cellar. “What kind of place gives you a whole one-night stay as a trial unless it’s dodgy?”

Joe clapped her on the back. “Hey, let’s not look a gift horse in the mouth! Who would say no to free weekend in the English countryside?”

“Clearly, none of us, I think we’ve established that,” Quynh said, and hurried after Mr Campbell-Edwards as he opened the doors to the terrace. It was lined with recliners under parasols next to the stairs that led to the lawn, and there was a table prepared for them to take lunch.

“Still think it’s a little too good to be true,” Andy said, and pointed to the recliners, “I mean, it even has places for Nicky to sleep if he’s too drunk to make it to bed on the day!”

“It was _one time_ ,” Nicky groaned and covered his face, but could be placated by Joe pulling him close. (Maybe because he couldn’t see Joe grinning at Andy and Quynh from there.)

“It’s a lovely day out, so I thought you might want to take lunch on the terrace,” Mr Campbell-Edwards said and led them over to the table. He launched into a spiel on the various catering options Dovecote Manor offered, and what was on the menu that day. “Do enjoy, I will leave you to it and then afterwards, I shall show you the extended grounds including the fountain display and our croquet lawn.”

Quynh’s entire face lit up at the words _croquet lawn_ , and she turned to Andy when Mr Campbell-Edwards had retreated. “Well, we simply have to take it, now that we know there’s a croquet lawn.”

Andy fixed her with a small glare over her sunglasses as she reached for the water carafe. “Do we now.”

“I like croquet,” Nicky offered, smirk only visible if you were very familiar with how his face worked.

“I know _you_ do,” Andy said, now torn between glaring at both of them, but it was fine. Deep, deep down, Quynh knew Andy liked croquet too, even if she would never admit it.

“It’ll be fine, Andy, we’ll just keep Booker and his wicked drinks away from you,” Joe said, laughing as he poured them a glass of wine from the other carafe. “Do you think they’ll offer a package with a free bar as well?”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, I don’t want to find out how many glasses Andy will break before we’ve even booked the place,” Nicky said.

“I’ll break a glass over your _head_ ,” Andy grumbled.

Nicky leaned back in his chair. “You wouldn’t get a chance.”

Quynh and Joe both scooted their chairs out of the way as they started flinging bread rolls at each other. It had been some time coming.

“You know what I wonder,” Joe said to her, sipping his water, “why do _you_ never get roasted with these things?”

Quynh thought back to a weekend they’d all spent in the English countryside years ago, playing games of pretend that very nearly would have worked out, if they hadn’t all been such idiots about it. That, and the fact that Quynh had been the first to slip up about their ruse in front of a half-naked Andy.

She fixed Joe with a wide, wide grin. “What can I say? I’m a paragon of virtue.”

* * *

Nicky felt like he was coming apart at the seams. Joe’s hand was splayed over his sternum, pulling him close as he mouthed at Nicky’s neck and Nicky was close, so close. Joe had been fucking him steadily for what felt like an hour at this point, all slow thrusts and rolling hips while Nicky braced himself against the headboard, and Nicky was well past the point of no return. He moaned loudly as another one of Joe’s thrusts hit his prostate.

They hadn’t really been planning to have sex (apart from the fact where Nicky had quite deliberately packed some lube), but what could he say. There was just something about the fact that this was the bed he might spend his wedding night in, when he’d likely be too exhausted to do anything, that just did it for Nicky in a way he wasn’t even willing to question.

“Mhm, Joe,” he said, and it sounded strangled somehow, “yeah, that’s so good, so good, just, could you just-“

“Faster?” Joe finished his sentence, punctuating it with another roll of his hips. Nicky swore, and then he groaned, he needed to _come_ , he needed to come right now, and then suddenly, Joe’s hand was on his mouth. Which wasn’t wholly unwelcome, but-

“Shh, _habibi_ ,” Joe whispered, stilling. Nicky was going to lose it. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Nicky said against Joe’s palm, before letting his head fall back onto Joe’s shoulder and trying to fuck himself back onto him. He was so close, damnit- And then he heard a moan. Well, two moans, actually. Neither of which had come from Joe.

Nicky opened his eyes to stare at the ceiling. “Mr Campbell-Edwards gave us adjoining rooms, didn’t he?”

He could feel Joe nod and press a kiss to his shoulder. The moans from next door did not let up.

“So this is what, revenge sex?”

Nicky suspected Quynh wouldn’t be above it. Andy certainly wasn’t.

“I guess?” Joe said, and raked a hand through his hair.

Nicky groaned again, although in frustration this time, and they slowly detangled themselves from each other. There were a number of things he could think of that he’d rather be doing than listen to his best friend have sex – some of which he had, in fact, just been doing – but for once in his life, he knew he didn’t really have the moral high ground here.

Joe snuggled up to him the way they did most nights, but going to sleep was unthinkable. For one, Andy and Quynh were _loud_ , much more than they had been, but that was the revenge part, he supposed. And also, because listening to someone have sex, even if it was your best friend, never killed anybody’s hard-on.

So they spent a couple of minutes pressed against each other, awkwardly trying to ignore what was happening in the room next to them and to move as little as humanly possible. Joe hissed when Nicky shifted, grazing his erection with his ass, and Nicky nearly growled in frustration again. He had been so close, and it would be so easy for Joe to-

His thoughts were cut off by a sound that started as a mewl and then steadily build into a scream.

“Jesus _Christ_ , Andy.” Joe let go off Nicky and pressed his face into his pillow. He sounded about as desperately turned on as Nicky felt, and Nicky was going to blame what he did next on that fact, and that fact alone, for years.

He turned around and trailed his fingers down Joe’s spine. Quynh screamed again.

“Yeah, I know that move,” he sighed.

Joe peered up at him, incredulous.

“I mean, I haven’t _experienced_ it, obviously. But-“

At some point, when Nicky had still been at university and had just come out to Andy, they’d been sitting and trading stories of conquest over a couple of bottles of beer. (Andy’s list remained a good few pages longer than Nicky’s.) It had been pretty late when Andy had leaned over the table and said to Nicky: “Look. I don’t usually share this kind of thing. But if you ever want to make someone _really_ happy, here’s what you need to do.”

Nicky looked over at Joe, his heavy-lidded gaze and tiny shudders under Nicky’s fingertips, and felt a truly wicked grin spread across his face. “You know what? I’ll show you.”

When they booked this place with Mr Campbell-Edwards – and Nicky was pretty sure they would – he’d make sure they were put on opposite ends of the manor. But for now, it wasn’t his problem if no one got any sleep that night.

* * *

“No, we’re absolutely not doing that,” Andy said resolutely, even as Quynh had started to pout at her.

“But it will be fun!”

“Fun for you, maybe,” Nicky chimed in, “I’m not sure we even need to know how to dance.”

“Oh, come on, hayati, it is a wedding! You’ll need to know how to dance at your own _wedding_.” Joe looked ready to lose his mind, and Quynh was entirely with him on this one.

Her and Andy had more or less spontaneously come over for dinner at Nicky and Joe’s – “Nicky has made so much pizza dough we’re either going to be eating it all week or you two come and help us,” Joe had told her on the phone, and who was Quynh to pass up Nicky’s pizza? – and somehow, they’d landed on the topic of wedding dances.

Nobody seemed to be particularly enamoured with the whole tradition around first dances, the consensus was that it was either something too intimate to be had in front of your entire family, or just an exercise in showing off. Only sometimes… Quynh liked showing off, sue her.

Dancing was _fun_. And it was her wedding day. She’d had no idea that suggesting they all went to get dance lessons would kick off such a strong discussion.

“And it’s not like we don’t _know_ how to dance,” Andy added, “I believe most weddings come to pass without people twirling their spouse around on the floor and then pulling them up through their legs.”

Quynh met Joe’s eyes over the table. This was one of their favourite moves, and while yes, it may have lacked a little decorum for a wedding dance, they already knew they were going to do it at least once as the evening progressed. Joe grinned at her, then he turned to Andy.

“So, if I were to, say, put music for a Waltz on now, you and Nicky would be happy to show us how it’s done?”

Quynh could tell that Nicky wanted to argue, maybe that they’d just had dinner, but _Andy_ was never going to back down from a challenge.

“You’re on, al-Kaysani,” she muttered, and was out of her chair dragging Nicky to the middle of the living room before he could even begin to protest.

They had to rearrange the coffee table and push two chairs out of the way to give them some space, and then Joe pressed play on the music. This was going to be _good_.

The thing was, Andy and Nicky did know how to dance, objectively, the way most people who have made it to adulthood know how to dance. They could sway to music, and they knew how to move to a rhythm. But whatever it was they were half-heartedly doing right now, it was… a lot of things, but it wasn’t a Waltz. And it wasn’t helped by the fact that Andy was glaring daggers at them, while Nicky was doing his best to make puppy eyes at Joe to release them.

Quynh looked at Joe, and tried very, very hard not laugh. Joe made them suffer for about a minute or two, to make a point, and then he took pity on them and turned the music off.

“Impressive, Andy,” he said, as Andy and Nicky turned to them. “Most people who know how to dance a Waltz might have noticed I played you music for a Cha Cha, but you know-“

Quynh jumped in between them and gently dragged Andy away from Joe before she could commit a crime.

Nicky crossed his arms in front of his chest. “What is your point?”

Joe was playing a dangerous game, even as he smiled sweetly. “Let me and Quynh show you how to dance? Please?”

Predictably, Nicky caved almost immediately, and while Andy kept mumbling about ‘traitors’ and needed some more coaxing from Quynh, in the end she did as well.

They pushed the table out of the way as well to make room for two couples, and then paired Joe off with Andy, and Nicky with Quynh to go over the basic steps to most ballroom dances. (They could always leave the more adventurous steps for a point when everyone was a lot drunker, Quynh reasoned.)

Nicky was a sweet and attentive learner as Quynh guided him through the steps. If he had a little more practice before their wedding, he would probably have to hide from even more aunties and grandmas as it was. Maybe teaching him to dance was a plan that would backfire on Joe, but Quynh was not going to be the one to tell him.

“Andy, again, you need to let yourself be led.” Quynh and Nicky both looked over to where Andy and Joe were struggling to move without falling over, their hands clasped together tightly as if they were both trying to push each other in different directions.

“Well, _maybe_ I don’t do well under other people’s leadership. Remember what happened to my last boss?”

Joe let his arm sink from Andy’s back with a sigh. “I tried,” he said, then pulled her over to where Nicky and Quynh were standing and pressed her hand into Quynh’s. “Sorry Quynh, she’s all yours.”

“I know,” Quynh said, and laughed at Andy’s scowl.

Joe pulled Nicky away from her – yes, he could thank her later – and Quynh gently placed Andy’s hand on her hip, then reached for her shoulder. She did not dig her fingers into Andy’s muscles there, there’d be time for that later, but she drew her close, listened to their shared breaths, all the points where their bodies were touching. Andy’s hipbone against her stomach, chest to chest, so Quynh could feel her heartbeat.

“Now step between my legs with your right foot,” she whispered into Andy’s ear, “and turn me a little in the same direction.”

If you anticipated the movement, dancing could be smooth as butter.

“Then back with your left, and pull me with you.”

The trick was, really, to move as yourself, but to move as one, carve out all the places a dance partner could take close to your body without becoming a part of you, but only just. And if it worked, it could be fast, or it could be slow, like a river steadily flowing into the sea.

“See,” Quynh whispered, “it’s not so bad.”

Andy kissed her temple. “It’s not so bad when it’s with you.”

* * *

It was still early when Andy woke up, the sun only just beginning to pour through their blinds, but the bed next to her was empty. She was confused for a moment, but too tired to articulate in her mind why. She pulled the duvet closer around her. It had been a while since that happened. It was never nice when it did.

Of course she went on business trips, and so did Quynh, but Andy had a distinct memory of falling asleep next to her the night before, nose buried in her soft, dark hair.

There was a shuffling sound on the other side of the door, and Andy rolled over in anticipation, taking most of the duvet with her until she was wrapped up in it like a cocoon, only her head poking out. That might have been what caused Quynh to laugh when she saw her, after she’d kicked open the door with her foot.

“What?” Andy said.

“Oh, nothing,” Quynh said. She was wearing her running gear, and Andy suspected she’d woken up at the crack of dawn unable to lie still again, but she was also carrying a little tray with bagels, and fruit, and coffee. “Just that you look adorable.”

“I’m not adorable,” Andy protested. “It was cold in bed without you.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” Quynh said, and set down her tray on her bedside table, which was always, always much tidier than Andy’s. Then she leaned down to kiss Andy’s nose. “Breakfast to make it up to you?”

Andy smiled, and wriggled one of her arms free to keep Quynh in kissing distance. It was moments like this that made her question all the times she’d told herself she’d be more than happy to spend the rest of her life by herself. It had been true at the time, she supposed, and maybe she would have been if she’d never known this. But oh, how glad she was that life had put this woman in her path since.

“How did I get so lucky?” She murmured against Quynh’s lips, before deepening the kiss, trying to pull her on top of her.

“Oh no, no no no,” Quynh protested, and pulled back. “I’m sweaty all over, let’s eat something and then I _might_ let you join me in the shower.”

“Fine,” Andy sighed, and reached to pull herself up into a seated position against the headboard with a groan that made Quynh laugh.

“You’re getting old, my dear,” she said as she handed Andy a cup of coffee.

“Hmm,” Andy said, and blew her fringe out of her eyes. She wanted to scowl, but it was hard to when Quynh was smiling at her around a piece of fruit in her mouth. “But I’m getting old with you.”

And given what that comment got her, who was Andy to complain, really.

* * *

“Mia! Are they still letting you fly?”

Joe rushed to help Mia out of the taxi they’d taken to Dovecote Manor. It was no wonder she was struggling to get up, since her body seemed to be entirely made up of belly at this point.

Mia laughed as she swung into him and kissed his cheek. “Oh, Italian airport staff knows better than to a pick a fight with a pregnant lady. And as if anyone would have been able to keep me from my little brother’s wedding!”

“Older brother, still,” Nicky corrected her. He’d rounded the car to greet Paolo and was now carrying a sleepy Elena as he said hello to his sister.

Mia just laughed but hugged him tightly, holding his face in her hands when they separated. Elena kept on sleeping on Nicky’s shoulder, and Joe had to stop himself from petting the soft and fuzzy hair that was growing on her head and currently straying into every direction under the sun. The only person with worse bed head, surely, was Nicky.

“Let me help you with that,” he said to Paolo, and together they carried the suitcases from the taxi to the manor where they left them in the entrance hall.

Mia and Paolo had arrived a few days earlier than most of the other guests so they had a few more days together before everything got really hectic. Both of Joe’s sisters were due to arrive the next day, as was Quynh’s brother.

Paolo and Joe caught up about a few of the recent football games they’d watched – Booker would be so indignant when he met Paolo – while they waited for Nicky and Mia to join them.

“Are you nervous?” Paolo asked when Nicky and Mia were just about still out of earshot.

Joe looked to where Nicky was fondly rolling his eyes at something Mia said and smiled. “Not really. Unless there’s something about the family I’m about to marry into no one has told me yet?”

Paolo laughed. “Nothing you wouldn’t have learned, what was it, two days into your relationship?”

Nicky hadn’t told anyone just _how_ new their relationship was when Joe had met his family for the first time, but much to Mia’s and Paolo’s delight, they’d pieced it together by Christmas using a technique of social media stalking and catching Joe out in Italian.

“Fair.” Joe slapped his back, and held the door to the manor for Mia while Paolo helped her up the last couple of steps.

" _Grazie mille_ ,” Nicky said when he passed him and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

Elena had woken up on the way over, and while she looked a little grumpy, she responded in kind when Joe cooed at her, making little grabby moves with her hands for Joe’s beard.

Mia laughed at him when Joe covered it with his hands (much to Elena’s dismay), but Paolo just raised his eyebrows at them.

“You know it’s your turn soon, guys.”

“Yeah, funny that,” Nicky said, exchanging a quick glance with Joe, “we just can’t seem to get pregnant.”

“Not for lack of trying, I’m sure.” Andy snickered as she jogged down the last couple of steps of the staircase to join them and exchange warm hellos with Mia and Paolo. “Now stop hanging out by the door and come in where we can get you some drinks.”

They laughed and followed her, and if Joe and Nicky lingered for a second, looking at Elena between them, well. When Joe caught his gaze, he knew Nicky was also thinking about the adoption application they’d left at home, half-filled out. But they just smiled, and didn’t say anything.

Not every decision they made was rushed these days. And besides, they were only just getting married. They still had all the time in the world.

* * *

Nile loved weddings.

What was not to like? Even if you didn’t like the couple and had to attend the ceremony against your will, there was family drama to keep things interesting, and if you did like the people who were getting married, it was an excellent excuse to get day-drunk and misty eyed at the idea of how much they loved each other while catching up with old friends.

She knew this wedding would deliver on all of these fronts, and not just because she had organised large parts of it herself. For starters, it wasn’t just two, but four of her friends getting married, and on top of that, she got to spend most of the time before the ceremony catching up with the most fabulous French woman she knew, because her husband was on best man duties.

“Has Sebastien told you what his speech is going to be about?” Sophie asked as the shuffled into their seats.

“No,” Nile said, “Should I be worried?”

Sophie patted her arm. “You? No. You’re in for a treat.”

They were cut off by the music, and both of the couples coming down the aisle. Nile hadn’t had a drink yet at that point, but if the idea of all four of them getting married hadn’t been enough to make her cry, the way the officiants carefully made room for rituals and traditions from all of their cultures and faiths would have done it. It was a beautiful day, and they were beautiful people who were in love with each other, and there was nothing she’d rather celebrate.

Sophie kept handing her tissues when she needed them, and together they laughed at the sweet bits and cried at the touching ones. It was quite a long ceremony, and by the time Booker got up and took to the podium, she’d almost forgotten about Sophie’s comment.

“Hi everyone, I’m Sebastien. I used to work with Joe and Andy, and they’ve become dear friends to me over the years, so I hope you will all join me in wishing them the very best and congratulate them for having found love in what I guess many would describe a hopeless place – work.”

There were some snickers around the room, and Sophie and Nile exchanged a _look_.

“Or at least, I guess, that’s the story most of you will have been told. That Joe introduced Andy to his best friend, Quynh, at a work event to which Andy had brought Nicky. But it would be remiss of me as Joe’s best man not to point out that that is only half of the story. You see, what actually happened, was this.”

Oh, Nile _loved_ weddings _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, I couldn't steal a title from Shakespeare's only play with a quadruple (!) wedding and not have them get married at the end. It was a lost cause from the start.
> 
> I'm a bit sad that it's over (okay, a lot sad), and will miss playing with these doofuses terribly, but I just wanted to say thank you again for all of you joining me on this silly journey. It's been a great distraction from pretty much everything that's happening in the world at the moment for me, and it makes me so happy to know that it could be the same for some of you.
> 
> <3 <3 <3
> 
> And now, because I think the ONE feature AO3 lacks is the "If you liked this, you'll probably love..." widget, I'm going to recommend two fics you might want to read if you are also sad it's over:  
> [in the tide of a day](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26866282) by [mellyflori](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellyflori/pseuds/mellyflori) (Joe/Nicky, Modern AU - Office Setting, Rating: T - if you want _even more_ modern workplace misunderstandings and enjoy seeing them take down Merrick while flirting)  
> [The Subtle Approach](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26055676) by [Survivah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Survivah/pseuds/Survivah) (Joe/Nicky, Canon - Regency era, Rating: T - A manor in the English countryside! A ball! A heist! Pretending not to be married! Need I say more?)


End file.
